<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856</id><updated>2011-08-21T07:47:59.890+01:00</updated><category term='Poetry'/><category term='Songs'/><category term='Poesia'/><category term='Letra de Música'/><title type='text'>O meu castelo My castle</title><subtitle type='html'>Poetry and thoughts Poesia e pensamentos</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>69</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-7562580172893305582</id><published>2011-08-19T01:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-08-19T01:30:01.930+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O vôo da Fénix</title><content type='html'>  &lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Era uma vez um homem que queria ser super-homem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas de cada vez que voava caia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E nunca aprendia que quem voa tem de aterrar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No chão duro da vida.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A cada aterragem uma nova viagem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A cada ressalto um grito de revolta&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A cada nuvem que passa uma estalada&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De água gelada que dilacera e corta.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hoje aterrou depois de ser cortado na face&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pela nuvem de fiapos que observara&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ao longe parecia inócua mas ao perto selvagem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Demasiado espessa para ser perpassada a voar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E momentaneamente cegou.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Após esse momento de dor olhou para cima&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tantas nuvens passam calmamente e reconheceu-as&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dos seus voos intermináveis que efectua&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E sentiu vontade de voar, voar e sentir outra vez&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A brisa na face, o vento nas penas, o fulgor no peito e foi.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Foi e viu, viu e tocou, tocou e sentiu&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Está vivo afinal de contas, existe e sente-se existir&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Voar custa mas nada se obtém sem custo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E decidiu que tinha que continuar a voar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mesmo se isso signifique voar em solitário.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-7562580172893305582?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/7562580172893305582/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=7562580172893305582' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/7562580172893305582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/7562580172893305582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2011/08/o-voo-da-fenix.html' title='O vôo da Fénix'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-5061186682399447161</id><published>2011-08-13T17:03:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2011-08-13T17:03:52.962+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sombra</title><content type='html'>  Era uma vez quem quiserdes que seja&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;Dois e ambos corriam isolados&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;Cada um nos seus percursos pessoais e imaculados.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;Um dia, quis a nuvem descer do céu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;E parar as estradas no nevoeiro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;Na espera que se seguiu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;Seguiram a mesma estrada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;No entanto continuada e isolada.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;Um sonhava e outro vivia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;Um aspirava e outro sorria&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;Um suspirava e o outro aproveitava&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;Um esmorecia e o outro arrebitava.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;Por quem sois&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;Alma que viajas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;Por quem sois e deixas na saudade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;Senhora de águas agitadas?...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-5061186682399447161?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/5061186682399447161/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=5061186682399447161' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/5061186682399447161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/5061186682399447161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2011/08/sombra.html' title='Sombra'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-8428122377740341907</id><published>2011-08-13T16:55:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-08-13T16:56:46.246+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Espaços</title><content type='html'>Durmo o pensamento&lt;br /&gt;Mas mesmo assim ele está acordado&lt;br /&gt;Acordo lá dentro e digo-lhe&lt;br /&gt;"Acalma-te ou cais para o lado!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olha-me de lado&lt;br /&gt;Senta-se e continua mudo&lt;br /&gt;Afasto-me e sinto&lt;br /&gt;Está a bater lá no fundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saí de lá&lt;br /&gt;Das impressões dele vejo que está dorido&lt;br /&gt;Encobre as emoções de modo a passar despercebido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abre a luz nos olhos&lt;br /&gt;Para que não se veja a escuridão&lt;br /&gt;E não saibam o quanto sofre&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rebate a tudo&lt;br /&gt;Na esperança que lhe digam&lt;br /&gt;As palavras que repetidamente diz a si próprio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fecho os olhos de novo&lt;br /&gt;Entro em mim e dou-lhe a mão&lt;br /&gt;É meu irmão gémeo e devo-lhe&lt;br /&gt;A lealdade na sua confusão.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-8428122377740341907?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/8428122377740341907/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=8428122377740341907' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/8428122377740341907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/8428122377740341907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2011/08/espacos.html' title='Espaços'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-9100809441120359372</id><published>2011-06-13T21:20:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T21:28:12.472+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Porquê amar?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Porquê amar se depois se sofre?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Porquê amar se depois se perde esse amor?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Porquê amar se depois temos de nos afastar?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Porquê amar se depois temos de nos habituar?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Porquê amar de facto!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-9100809441120359372?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/9100809441120359372/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=9100809441120359372' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/9100809441120359372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/9100809441120359372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2011/06/porque-amar.html' title='Porquê amar?'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-2087107978685085988</id><published>2010-08-08T00:45:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-08T00:47:43.504+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Dança</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uma capa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uma máscara&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uma aliança&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uma farsa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uma cor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uma flor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uma distância&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uma intermitência.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um chapéu&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um arremedo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um soltar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um actuar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um vazio&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um buraco&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um passo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um continuum.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;São as contradições da vida&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E as sensações que mordem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que ateiam a fogueira&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 10pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que era uma vela faroleira.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-2087107978685085988?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/2087107978685085988/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=2087107978685085988' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/2087107978685085988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/2087107978685085988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2010/08/danca.html' title='Dança'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-1218068110523232652</id><published>2010-04-10T02:26:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T02:31:16.409+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Uma lua nova</title><content type='html'>Um rebento&lt;br /&gt;Um dia sonhado&lt;br /&gt;Aquele tão grande alento&lt;br /&gt;Suavemente suspirado&lt;br /&gt;Nos tapetes amansados&lt;br /&gt;Docemente sussurrados.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sonhou ser seu&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo se o não possa ser&lt;br /&gt;Uma Salomé enviada&lt;br /&gt;Na forma de um falo criado&lt;br /&gt;Aspira-se a ouvir&lt;br /&gt;A sorte do pouco fado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Está triste o guerreiro&lt;br /&gt;Nesta paz de ano alcançada&lt;br /&gt;Tem pena o lutador&lt;br /&gt;Sossobrar pela nova&lt;br /&gt;Nas palavras ditas ao acaso&lt;br /&gt;Pelos aldeãos quando passa:&lt;br /&gt;"Lua Nova... Lua Nova..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-1218068110523232652?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/1218068110523232652/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=1218068110523232652' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/1218068110523232652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/1218068110523232652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2010/04/uma-lua-nova.html' title='Uma lua nova'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-4177109393334415014</id><published>2009-12-29T15:34:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-29T15:44:01.784Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>A barca no espelho do lago</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Há momentos inesquecíveis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Momentos de ternura inolvidáveis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Crescidos do nada envolvidos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Esperando que nos amparem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Andamos em círculos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nas ondas do lago provocadas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pelos que nos acordam para a vida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sentimos que não chegamos à margem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O nevoeiro encobre a terra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Vemos os braços que esbracejam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Não vislumbramos a figura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Enganosamente dissimulada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Esperamos que seja&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sonhamos alto essa verdade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Escamuteamos quem nos deseja&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Porque desejamos e somos desejados.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sê-lo-emos de facto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ou a margem é uma miragem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Um truque da mente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Na esperança da viagem?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Olhamos mais uma vez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Vemos quem cuida do cais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Um porto seguro de facto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mas ainda não que tais.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Lança-se a corda ao barqueiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Amarra-se ao ancoradouro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O barco balouça inseguro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mas o passadiço é duro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Um passo a seguir ao outro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Um momento que é ainda louco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;No equilíbrio do porto a aventura começa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Começa a pouco e pouco.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-4177109393334415014?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/4177109393334415014/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=4177109393334415014' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/4177109393334415014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/4177109393334415014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2009/12/barca-no-espelho-do-lago.html' title='A barca no espelho do lago'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-7828683038774365462</id><published>2009-08-26T22:22:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T22:23:55.396+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O que é a Esperança?</title><content type='html'>O que é a esperança?&lt;br /&gt;Porque existe sequer?&lt;br /&gt;Porque nos faz sonhar, sofrer e cirandar perdidos?&lt;br /&gt;Porque não somos simples e amamos&lt;br /&gt;E quando já não somos amados... esquecemos?&lt;br /&gt;Porque é que reflectimos sobre isto?&lt;br /&gt;Porque temos esperança?&lt;br /&gt;O que é a Esperança?...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-7828683038774365462?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/7828683038774365462/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=7828683038774365462' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/7828683038774365462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/7828683038774365462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2009/08/o-que-e-esperanca.html' title='O que é a Esperança?'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-3316841272546759962</id><published>2009-08-21T22:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T22:25:27.832+01:00</updated><title type='text'>As flores da esperança</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Do que sinto falta? As horas!&lt;br /&gt;O que anseio? Os minutos!&lt;br /&gt;O que desejo? Tu!&lt;br /&gt;O que não tenho? Nós!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fomos tão belos&lt;br /&gt;No escuro do segredo embalados&lt;br /&gt;Fugimos a galope&lt;br /&gt;Parados pelos sinos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subimos montanhas&lt;br /&gt;Encontrámos as estrelas&lt;br /&gt;Nos toques divinos&lt;br /&gt;Dos olhos tão belos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sentimos o amor&lt;br /&gt;A arte e a devoção&lt;br /&gt;No acre doce sabor do proibido&lt;br /&gt;Negaste a consumição.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje é igual a ontem&lt;br /&gt;Sê-lo-á outra vez amanhã&lt;br /&gt;Perdidas para sempre no monte&lt;br /&gt;As flores daquele jardim…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Jardim da Esperança encontrada e perdida!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-3316841272546759962?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/3316841272546759962/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=3316841272546759962' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/3316841272546759962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/3316841272546759962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2009/08/as-flores-da-esperanca.html' title='As flores da esperança'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-6158478225077997724</id><published>2009-07-23T12:27:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T12:30:24.140+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Saudade e Dor</title><content type='html'>Espírito&lt;br /&gt;Solitário&lt;br /&gt;Temeroso&lt;br /&gt;Esperançado&lt;br /&gt;Luzídio e&lt;br /&gt;Amado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perdida a&lt;br /&gt;Ocasião&lt;br /&gt;Real da&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Querida&lt;br /&gt;União&lt;br /&gt;Empática&lt;br /&gt;Mistificada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aliada&lt;br /&gt;Mortificada e&lt;br /&gt;Onírica!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-6158478225077997724?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/6158478225077997724/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=6158478225077997724' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/6158478225077997724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/6158478225077997724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2009/07/saudade-e-dor.html' title='Saudade e Dor'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-6289477828194168543</id><published>2009-06-14T18:13:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T18:15:32.190+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O diabo mulher</title><content type='html'>Seres&lt;strong&gt; incompreendidos pelas mulheres&lt;br /&gt;Esses perfeitos seres de contradição&lt;br /&gt;Que mais não são que rodas quadradas&lt;br /&gt;Que não sentem a trepidação&lt;br /&gt;E dizem que vão suavemente rolando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo se lhes é perdoado&lt;br /&gt;Sentido e explicado&lt;br /&gt;Pelos descontrolos hormonais e emocionais&lt;br /&gt;Pela condição de mãe&lt;br /&gt;E de pura donzela aos olhos de quem&lt;br /&gt;Não consegue ver mais além.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mulher é capaz dos mesmos desígnios masculinos&lt;br /&gt;Desejos e sentidos&lt;br /&gt;Mas esconde-os mais facilmente na sua candura&lt;br /&gt;Inexplicável da fraqueza física&lt;br /&gt;Gritando no silêncio de palavras e gestos mudos&lt;br /&gt;Por oposição aos gritos mais silenciosos&lt;br /&gt;Da palavra proferida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Eu sou incapaz”&lt;br /&gt;Vocifera&lt;br /&gt;“Não sou como tu”&lt;br /&gt;Gesticula&lt;br /&gt;“Vais pagar caro”&lt;br /&gt;Ameaça&lt;br /&gt;Olhos húmidos dilacera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mulher é o pior dos bichos&lt;br /&gt;E quando se unem em pares&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo se inimigas de perto&lt;br /&gt;Amigas se tornam pela batalha&lt;br /&gt;Porque o homem para elas é esperto&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto que elas são&lt;br /&gt;Inteligentes e de espírito aberto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sociedade ainda não se apercebeu&lt;br /&gt;E eu também não&lt;br /&gt;Que as mulheres são sub - descendentes&lt;br /&gt;Que só estão bem se tudo for como aspiram&lt;br /&gt;Se tudo estiver onde desejam&lt;br /&gt;Se se fizer o que desejam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um filme é mau porque não gostam&lt;br /&gt;Partilhar imagens então é tolice&lt;br /&gt;Assistir a espectáculos degradantes&lt;br /&gt;Na visão de quem não gosta&lt;br /&gt;Já é ser mau e vil porco insensível.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A melhor coisa que se deve fazer&lt;br /&gt;É partilhar os espaços consigo mesmo&lt;br /&gt;Não permitir que nos condicionem&lt;br /&gt;E apertem a existência.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não vos quero mais&lt;br /&gt;Não desejo mais&lt;br /&gt;A vós hei-de prover&lt;br /&gt;Do sofrimento total.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esse é o meu alcance hoje…&lt;br /&gt;Amanhã logo se verá!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-6289477828194168543?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/6289477828194168543/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=6289477828194168543' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/6289477828194168543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/6289477828194168543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2009/06/o-diabo-mulher.html' title='O diabo mulher'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-8197803341253772981</id><published>2009-04-29T17:52:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T17:53:53.553+01:00</updated><title type='text'>À minha mãe</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;À minha Mãe&lt;br /&gt;Aquela que me dá tudo&lt;br /&gt;Que vai à montanha mais alta&lt;br /&gt;E ao mais fundo dos Oceanos…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;À minha Mãe&lt;br /&gt;Que luta contra o frio do Inverno&lt;br /&gt;Que enfrenta o calor do Verão&lt;br /&gt;E não permite que nada me falte…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;À minha Mãe&lt;br /&gt;Por perto sempre que preciso&lt;br /&gt;Que chora quando sorrio&lt;br /&gt;E que sorri quando choro…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;À minha Mãe&lt;br /&gt;A mais forte do mundo&lt;br /&gt;Que me levanta sempre e dá carinho&lt;br /&gt;Depois de cair…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;À minha Mãe&lt;br /&gt;Cozinheira fantástica&lt;br /&gt;De sopas, carnes e peixes&lt;br /&gt;Que me tiram a fome…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;À minha Mãe&lt;br /&gt;De voz calma e serena&lt;br /&gt;Que me adormece&lt;br /&gt;Quando não tenho sono…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;À minha Mãe&lt;br /&gt;Que está sempre ao meu lado&lt;br /&gt;Quando pode&lt;br /&gt;E quando não pode…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero só dizer…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adoro-te Mãe!&lt;br /&gt;Amo-te Mãe!&lt;br /&gt;Nunca deixes de estar aí&lt;br /&gt;Porque sem ti não sou ninguém!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-8197803341253772981?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/8197803341253772981/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=8197803341253772981' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/8197803341253772981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/8197803341253772981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2009/04/minha-mae.html' title='À minha mãe'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-4131229986101762829</id><published>2009-03-02T18:47:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-03-02T19:06:17.447Z</updated><title type='text'>Seagulls hover over me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;I stare at the sky as it clears&lt;br /&gt;Moments of an extraordinary calm invades&lt;br /&gt;As I become unaware of myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I distant from me and from here to nowhere&lt;br /&gt;That cold sweet warm breeze just eases me&lt;br /&gt;And my inner terror dreams&lt;br /&gt;Of being together alone with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat down in a cloud&lt;br /&gt;Taste it’s softness like baby skin&lt;br /&gt;That cozy tenderness of touching…&lt;br /&gt;But where to touch but in a dream?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter now&lt;br /&gt;The dices are rolling&lt;br /&gt;As I stand here comfortably nesting and lightly asleep&lt;br /&gt;Hair over wind and face&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Linger and links all over&lt;br /&gt;Images and pictures everywhere&lt;br /&gt;Every face every smile a window&lt;br /&gt;Every whistle a call of duty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where’s my duty?&lt;br /&gt;Where’s my beauty?&lt;br /&gt;Why it became so naughty?&lt;br /&gt;Now I’m nothing but broken pottery!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gathering&lt;br /&gt;That missing piece in the chain of Universe&lt;br /&gt;Lost in a turn of time…&lt;br /&gt;My mistake your loss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did You allow it be?&lt;br /&gt;Am I not your warrior?&lt;br /&gt;Or is it just because of it?&lt;br /&gt;No love, full commitment…&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-4131229986101762829?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/4131229986101762829/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=4131229986101762829' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/4131229986101762829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/4131229986101762829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2009/03/seagulls-hover-over-me.html' title='Seagulls hover over me!'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-1904876763782928895</id><published>2009-02-26T17:18:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-02-26T17:28:18.488Z</updated><title type='text'>Uvas do Norte</title><content type='html'>Sinto o calor de uma estrela que brilha&lt;br /&gt;Vejo a névoa que perspassa meus olhos&lt;br /&gt;Encontro a luz daquele negro semblante&lt;br /&gt;Que um dia soube abraçar a sorte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Momento de transcendente existência&lt;br /&gt;Cumplicidade nunca efémera entre iguais&lt;br /&gt;Sensações que se desejam partilhar&lt;br /&gt;Com amiúde emoção alheia vividas e alcançadas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alguém habita os sonhos&lt;br /&gt;É o telhado e os alicerces sem saber sabendo&lt;br /&gt;Numa verdade sempre repetida sonoramente&lt;br /&gt;Criada está a ponte entre o etéreo eterno cosmos dialéctico.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sabe-se sabendo&lt;br /&gt;Sente-se sentindo&lt;br /&gt;Diz-se calando mudo&lt;br /&gt;Silencia-se nos silêncios não ditos entre sons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A parra dá uva de novo&lt;br /&gt;Vinhateiro de poda corta o cacho&lt;br /&gt;Noutro lugar noutra direcção&lt;br /&gt;No mesmo sentido somos...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem é a videira?&lt;br /&gt;Será certo ou será míldio que aflora?&lt;br /&gt;Virá o sulfato a tempo&lt;br /&gt;Da poda do vinhateiro?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terras ricas do Norte&lt;br /&gt;De escarpas trabalhadas na dura corrida&lt;br /&gt;A difícil subida à plataforma rural&lt;br /&gt;Será impossível arear terreno este fértil?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Da simbiose dos organismos&lt;br /&gt;Das tormentas que se sofrem pelo temporal&lt;br /&gt;Da bonança que a solarenga trará&lt;br /&gt;Nascerá uma nova semente?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O agricultor semeia devagar&lt;br /&gt;Espera o tempo a paciência&lt;br /&gt;Quando a flor brotar&lt;br /&gt;Dará fruto e fragância?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-1904876763782928895?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/1904876763782928895/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=1904876763782928895' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/1904876763782928895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/1904876763782928895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2009/02/sinto-o-calor-de-uma-estrela-que-brilha.html' title='Uvas do Norte'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-1866162253185274360</id><published>2009-02-19T19:02:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-02-19T19:14:55.926Z</updated><title type='text'>JO</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Num momento de díspar encontro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Numa furtuita mansão do tempo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Energias fluem e sobem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ao eterno espaço da ilusão.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Come-se as estrelas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aconchegamo-nos nos braços das galáxias&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bebemos dos cometas que passam&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sentimos que somos errantes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Na fuga da felicidade que escapa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Por cada um que se cruza no espaço.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ambos os sóis que nos iluminam&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um em crecendo outro extinto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um que já não brilha&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;outro que por vezes perde fulgor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mais não são que prendas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;que os cometas condenados estão&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ao vaguear sós a cada volta do tempo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A cada volta da volta da nossa cabeça.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Merece o Universo que assomemos vida&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que nos permitamos viver&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que nos desviemos dos caminhos dos outros&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Já que de cada vez que esgueiramos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Morremos mais um pouco?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sim, devemos!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Devemos porque mesmo frios vivemos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Devemos porque mesmo presos merecemos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Devemos porque são os outros que nos merecem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E não nós os merecedores!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No altruísmo do cometa jaz a mão de luz&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aquela luz que se a não dermos ninguém tem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E que é o nosso fado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Iluminar os outros.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Continua a distribuir luz&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não te apagues nem deixes apagar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mesmo que te soprem ventanias e temporais&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Abre o peito ao vento, protege a flama nos olhos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E sê tu, livre, bela, selvagem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aquele selvagem puro escondido na candura da indiferença&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aos olhares do mundo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vive cada momento como se fosse o último&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Expira os "ais" da vida a cada recontro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Perde o fôlego a cada preenchimento&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Penetra a força com renovada energia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando parece que se esvai após atingir o ponto.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Para um JO de um AN&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O dois vindo do um&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O ímpar que torna par&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu e tu, dois que não é nenhum&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E todos para mais algum!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-1866162253185274360?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/1866162253185274360/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=1866162253185274360' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/1866162253185274360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/1866162253185274360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2009/02/jo.html' title='JO'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-224854076852088695</id><published>2009-01-22T16:54:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-01-22T17:15:10.269Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Passadas cavalgadas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Cavaleiro das doces cavalgadas&lt;br /&gt;Em leitos suaves de curvas uniformes talhados&lt;br /&gt;Percorres de encontro ao sol poente&lt;br /&gt;As areias finas dos seus cabelos raiados&lt;br /&gt;Em luzes claras reflectidas de saudade que aperta&lt;br /&gt;O coração do destemido que um dia ousou…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ousadia pagada caro&lt;br /&gt;Pelo destino coração cravado de espinhos&lt;br /&gt;Daquela rosa cheirosa de caule traiçoeiro&lt;br /&gt;Que um dia nasceu selvagem de um nascimento prematuro&lt;br /&gt;Onde a terra impura se tornou pura à sua visão&lt;br /&gt;Ao orvalho da manhã resplandecente&lt;br /&gt;Que arrepiava os grilos e as cigarras&lt;br /&gt;A cada toque de sua fria e gélida geada derretida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O gafanhoto saltava despreocupado&lt;br /&gt;Searas para colheita em todo o lado&lt;br /&gt;Tanta escolha, tanto sal&lt;br /&gt;Tanto mel, tanto mal&lt;br /&gt;Mas mesmo assim saltava de olhos fechados&lt;br /&gt;Porque o mundo era seu para a tomada&lt;br /&gt;Para a conquista do conquistador improvável.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O rei na torre do seu castelo observava&lt;br /&gt;Das ameias envelhecidas e enegrecidas&lt;br /&gt;Aquela paisagem outrora bela&lt;br /&gt;Agora desfeita pela idade e pela solidão&lt;br /&gt;Dos montes que choram o sol que se põe&lt;br /&gt;Nesta tarde de Verão que embora Inverno&lt;br /&gt;Jamais passará do calor estival&lt;br /&gt;Porque o sentido do sentido&lt;br /&gt;Daquele alvo e cando momento&lt;br /&gt;Perene na imaginação do tido&lt;br /&gt;Será para sempre a porta da sua prisão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O rei está fechado no seu castelo&lt;br /&gt;Jamais de lá sairá&lt;br /&gt;Porque a Natureza já não é sua…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-224854076852088695?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/224854076852088695/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=224854076852088695' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/224854076852088695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/224854076852088695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2009/01/passadas-cavalgadas.html' title='Passadas cavalgadas'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-5522068503671001181</id><published>2008-12-16T17:32:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-12-16T17:46:19.766Z</updated><title type='text'>A prisão dos sentimentos</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A doce e misteriosa criatura que um dia percorreu caminhos travessos&lt;br /&gt;Numa muralha de impostura onde se empareda e se esconde&lt;br /&gt;Leva a que se refugie em si mesma e não se reconheça&lt;br /&gt;Dando a si própria a falsa sensação de controlo sobre o que a rodeia&lt;br /&gt;Que no fundo é nada a não ser pedra fria e impessoal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas para cada muralha que isola de si isola os outros&lt;br /&gt;Fechando-se ao exterior mas fechando o exterior&lt;br /&gt;Tornando sós as almas errantes na Natureza selvagem&lt;br /&gt;Ansiando por alimento que existe só e apenas&lt;br /&gt;Do outro lado do lado fechado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Errantes vão descendo ao Inferno de Dante&lt;br /&gt;À vil existência pueril da birra e teimosia&lt;br /&gt;De querer o brinquedo só para si mesmo que já o não queira&lt;br /&gt;Só porque já foi seu e não se partilha&lt;br /&gt;Nem tam pouco já se consegue nutrir desejo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas a mente humana é pobre&lt;br /&gt;A doce juvenilidade da possessão que esconde os olhos&lt;br /&gt;Que leva ao doce isolamento do romantismo bacoco&lt;br /&gt;De ver o mundo a duas dimensões unívocas&lt;br /&gt;É uma loucura que obriga a ser partilhada por quem o não deseja.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corre-se por sobre a muralha que não acaba mais&lt;br /&gt;Subidas e degraus infindáveis de sofridão e suor de língua acalentado&lt;br /&gt;Tropeços e levantos intermináveis de escoriações mentais&lt;br /&gt;Para que miserável alma muralhada escondida&lt;br /&gt;Que a todos corre em corropio mundano de existência localizada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O romantismo morreu no dia em que nasceu&lt;br /&gt;Ele em si não existe, é uma miragem, um mito&lt;br /&gt;Algo que não existe mas que precisou de ser nomeado para dar nome&lt;br /&gt;Às muralhas erigidas e levantadas por maus capitães&lt;br /&gt;Que levaram as suas naus e homens ao fundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na superior existência somos todos livres de maus capitães&lt;br /&gt;Um sítio onde se salta por cima desse posto de energúmenos&lt;br /&gt;Que não reconhecem a justiça dos seus marinheiros&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo que estes sejam seus superiores em comando&lt;br /&gt;Preferindo a rebelião levada ao motim do coração!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-5522068503671001181?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/5522068503671001181/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=5522068503671001181' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/5522068503671001181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/5522068503671001181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/12/priso-dos-sentimentos.html' title='A prisão dos sentimentos'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-6016140581731024033</id><published>2008-12-15T19:30:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-15T19:31:06.000Z</updated><title type='text'>Viagens pelo mundo dos vivos e da morte</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nas viagens pelo mundo, deu de caras com um anjo.&lt;br /&gt;Olhou-o, cheirou-o, visualizou-o, e viajou de novo…&lt;br /&gt;Não era tempo do tempo se encontrar antes de tempo.&lt;br /&gt;Foi flutuando…&lt;br /&gt;Foi-se mostrando…&lt;br /&gt;Foi enfeitiçando enquanto se enfeitiçava…&lt;br /&gt;Bebeu a própria poção que preparou e enfeitiçado ficou…&lt;br /&gt;O feitiço da lua noite branca&lt;br /&gt;Deixou que a alma se sentasse à espera&lt;br /&gt;Do momento que estava para vir…&lt;br /&gt;Criou-o com as suas mãos&lt;br /&gt;Cavou fundo nas costas da areia rochosa&lt;br /&gt;Com unhas em sangue lavadas olhadas&lt;br /&gt;O horizonte ora desperto ora morto&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto esperava pela brisa que estava para vir…&lt;br /&gt;E não vinha!&lt;br /&gt;Sentado no pedrão negro&lt;br /&gt;Via as silhuetas ao longe chamando&lt;br /&gt;Escudado nos vidros escuros permaneceu imóvel&lt;br /&gt;Fazendo de conta, pretendendo ser outro&lt;br /&gt;Ser aquele que de facto não é e nunca será&lt;br /&gt;Aquele que é forte na fraqueza dos outros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Duas gaivotas, então, se encontraram&lt;br /&gt;E partilharam carícias animais&lt;br /&gt;Pactuando em pacto aparte&lt;br /&gt;O que de facto era junto&lt;br /&gt;Até que seus bicos agarraram o mesmo peixe&lt;br /&gt;Consumando a alimentação desejada…&lt;br /&gt;Mas a força da fêmea é pouca&lt;br /&gt;Largou a sardinha…&lt;br /&gt;Queria salmão a pobrezinha!...&lt;br /&gt;E deixou-se roubar a criaturinha!...&lt;br /&gt;Ou não?!...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outro dia, outro desencontro&lt;br /&gt;Outra viagem, outra amaragem&lt;br /&gt;Outros sons, outros confortos&lt;br /&gt;Até ao máximo alado da noite ofuscado&lt;br /&gt;Após o manjar repastado tardiamente esbanjado&lt;br /&gt;Para 30 dias de solidão da noite invernia&lt;br /&gt;Em tempo de estio.&lt;br /&gt;A volta da maré pouco trouxe de diferente&lt;br /&gt;Um pouco até de menos&lt;br /&gt;A distante sereia que chamava&lt;br /&gt;Rugia não cantava&lt;br /&gt;Abanava não aliciava&lt;br /&gt;Criava tensão não acalmava…&lt;br /&gt;Mas o vermelho diabo assustado&lt;br /&gt;Bem tentava aquecer o inferno da fornalha.&lt;br /&gt;Oportunidades criadas&lt;br /&gt;Momentos desperdiçados&lt;br /&gt;Propícios desejos desejados e encontrados&lt;br /&gt;Mas descartados pelas presenças das sombras.&lt;br /&gt;Sombrios pensamentos de certezas&lt;br /&gt;Certo que é certo do que certo é&lt;br /&gt;A luxúria da bidimensionalidade escondida&lt;br /&gt;Nos aconchegos frágeis e ténues&lt;br /&gt;Procurados escondidos mas vistos pelo gato&lt;br /&gt;Que não consegue esconder o rabo…&lt;br /&gt;Ou intencionais para afastar ou achegar…&lt;br /&gt;O triângulo adensa-se…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muito amor condensado&lt;br /&gt;Entre dois iguais amansados&lt;br /&gt;Em mentiras brancas escudados&lt;br /&gt;Não se abrem as portas da abertura&lt;br /&gt;Consolidando a necessidade da mentira&lt;br /&gt;Para sempre e todo o sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deve ter sido um mar de prazer&lt;br /&gt;Uma consumição danada&lt;br /&gt;Pelo chão de rojo arranjada&lt;br /&gt;Uma consumação atada&lt;br /&gt;De domínio avassalador&lt;br /&gt;De mulher em mulher&lt;br /&gt;Macho fêmea no mesmo&lt;br /&gt;Por onde anda a partilha da dialéctica humana?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foi-se… partiu… só… desejo…&lt;br /&gt;Clama… chama… aspira…&lt;br /&gt;Nega… suspira… solta… amaina…&lt;br /&gt;Até que… um alto escuro momento&lt;br /&gt;Uma nuvem se abre e o raio de sol aparece&lt;br /&gt;A gaivota levanta o bico&lt;br /&gt;Canta no seu piar sem jeito e voa&lt;br /&gt;Voa de encontro ao sol que a queima&lt;br /&gt;Mas o calor é bom, belo, sedutor&lt;br /&gt;Vale a pena morrer neste sol…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E morreu!&lt;br /&gt;No dia 2, após o dia um que o foi de facto&lt;br /&gt;Real e met(af)eórico&lt;br /&gt;Uma viagem num mundo de bis&lt;br /&gt;Esqueceu-se que o sol queima a quem aqueceu&lt;br /&gt;E a gaivota caiu&lt;br /&gt;Caiu do alto mas não morreu!&lt;br /&gt;Desmembrou, hemorrajou&lt;br /&gt;Inertou meses vendo aquele sol que a mantinha viva&lt;br /&gt;A alimentava enquanto se definha&lt;br /&gt;Até que a morte a levou para cima&lt;br /&gt;E viu que outras gaivotas voavam naquele voo astral…&lt;br /&gt;Tantas gaivotas&lt;br /&gt;Uma e outra… e mais outra ainda!&lt;br /&gt;Asas tocavam em si&lt;br /&gt;Grasnando por ela&lt;br /&gt;Assumindo-a subir mais&lt;br /&gt;A juntar-se ao nós formado pelo todo&lt;br /&gt;Daqueles que foram já um com o seu par&lt;br /&gt;E o perderam porque foram matados&lt;br /&gt;Ensanguentados&lt;br /&gt;Partidos&lt;br /&gt;Abandonados&lt;br /&gt;E que no fim foram encontrados.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bendita a morte desta gaivota que a trouxe de volta à vida&lt;br /&gt;Bendito o assassino que trouxe esta vida de volta&lt;br /&gt;Bendita a submissão que dá em fartura de sentimento&lt;br /&gt;Benditos aqueles que julgam superior vontade&lt;br /&gt;Mas que no fim se encontram sempre no escuro&lt;br /&gt;Miserável escuro que puxa para baixo&lt;br /&gt;Por muito que procureis sereis sempre&lt;br /&gt;Miseráveis e tristes&lt;br /&gt;Aspirando pelo que não têm&lt;br /&gt;Sonhando com o que gostavam de ter&lt;br /&gt;Expiando pseudo-dores próprias&lt;br /&gt;Negadas na existência solitária de uma miséria&lt;br /&gt;Que se auto-comisera e se alimenta em si mesma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sede triste e só&lt;br /&gt;Sede homem num corpo fútil&lt;br /&gt;Sede mulher numa hábil luta&lt;br /&gt;Enganai quem se deixa enganar&lt;br /&gt;Porque a cada momento&lt;br /&gt;A cada troca&lt;br /&gt;Ganha quem ganha, perde quem dá&lt;br /&gt;Porque não recebe, só cobra&lt;br /&gt;E no fim&lt;br /&gt;Nada se tem para dar em troca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pobre gaivota que mata&lt;br /&gt;Porque mata-se a si mesma&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto a que morre&lt;br /&gt;Renasce das cinzas mais forte&lt;br /&gt;E junto de outras gaivotas&lt;br /&gt;Esplendorosas&lt;br /&gt;Belas&lt;br /&gt;Esbeltas&lt;br /&gt;De novos bicos que esquecem os outros bicos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que lindo bico que foi!...&lt;br /&gt;Um bicudo bicar de salto lançado&lt;br /&gt;Aterrado no queixo próprio&lt;br /&gt;Quase sendo alimentar manjado!&lt;br /&gt;A hora fora longa&lt;br /&gt;A fome demasiadamente adiada&lt;br /&gt;Supreendeu-se a sim mesma&lt;br /&gt;Com aquilo para que fora criada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora a gaivota sabe que pode&lt;br /&gt;Não importa o quê nem como&lt;br /&gt;Simplesmente sabe que sim, que f…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-6016140581731024033?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/6016140581731024033/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=6016140581731024033' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/6016140581731024033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/6016140581731024033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/12/viagens-pelo-mundo-dos-vivos-e-da-morte.html' title='Viagens pelo mundo dos vivos e da morte'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-2732622733712029608</id><published>2008-12-11T22:43:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-11T22:49:03.581Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Crispação</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ontem perdi-me em ti&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hoje encontro-me aqui&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Amanhã perder-me-ei em mim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sonhando com o que encontrarei.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Foi pesadelo do qual acordei&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sonho infeliz de roupagens belas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chorei de alegrias amadas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pintei de palavras amargas telas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Onde no fundo me perdi.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O dia é negro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Qual tal minha alma&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nunca o deveria ter deixado de ser&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Deixar inundar-me de calma.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vivo no tormento&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Abracei sempre as agitadas águas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Doce e ternurento complemento&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do doce sabor a fel das mágoas.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nunca deveria ter sido&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Presença que altera o espírito&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nuvem de pó ácido corrosivo &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alegria... aquele mito.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hoje regresso às origens&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Monto meu alazão negro branco&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cavalgarei de encontro ao destino&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Onde me encontrarei descalço&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Frente a frente com ele&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Meu irmão gémeo de tacto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que anseia pela minha rendição&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E amaldiçoe aquele que É de facto.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-2732622733712029608?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/2732622733712029608/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=2732622733712029608' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/2732622733712029608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/2732622733712029608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/12/crispao.html' title='Crispação'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-4466257512125835552</id><published>2008-12-09T22:46:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-09T22:49:09.527Z</updated><title type='text'>Descoberta e consciência repentina</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mas quem te abanou os teus alicerces?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Um anjo&lt;br /&gt;Um anjo negro&lt;br /&gt;O lado negro do arcanjo que sou&lt;br /&gt;Alguém que tocou as minhas asas e as molhou&lt;br /&gt;Não me deixando voar por causa das penas molhadas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Continua…&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Humm!...&lt;br /&gt;Mas o anjo negro voa na noite do pensamento&lt;br /&gt;Escondido dizendo que procura a luz&lt;br /&gt;Que anseia pela liberdade vespertina&lt;br /&gt;E eu retorno ao breu existencial&lt;br /&gt;Ao fundo de uma alma apaziguada pelos anos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Num fugaz momento do tempo&lt;br /&gt;Encontrámo-nos na passagem&lt;br /&gt;E descobrimo-nos mas ambos em sentidos diferentes&lt;br /&gt;O problema é que o vôo não diverge&lt;br /&gt;Simplesmente parece que sim&lt;br /&gt;E o que o molhou não foi água&lt;br /&gt;Foi sal de lágrimas&lt;br /&gt;Das suas lágrimas&lt;br /&gt;Que tombam para trás pela força do movimento alado&lt;br /&gt;De quem esvoaça em meu redor!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-4466257512125835552?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/4466257512125835552/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=4466257512125835552' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/4466257512125835552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/4466257512125835552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/12/descoberta-e-conscincia-repentina.html' title='Descoberta e consciência repentina'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-8462248502353419137</id><published>2008-12-01T01:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-01T01:11:25.840Z</updated><title type='text'>Sofro em recuo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Esmoreces em mim...&lt;br /&gt;Matas um sentimento belo...&lt;br /&gt;Saudade das horas negras da noite que aconchegavas...&lt;br /&gt;Emudeço ante mim a noite da indiferença...&lt;br /&gt;Foge-me o sorriso na substituição de um resignar dos lábios...&lt;br /&gt;Já não corro, ando...&lt;br /&gt;Já não ando, arrasto...&lt;br /&gt;Já não arrasto, cambaleio...&lt;br /&gt;Já não cambaleio, paro...&lt;br /&gt;Estou parado, recuo...&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto recuo, esqueço...&lt;br /&gt;Esqueço o que já não é...&lt;br /&gt;O que já não é já o foi enquanto passo por ele...&lt;br /&gt;Aceno-lhe enquanto sorri...&lt;br /&gt;Sorri porque não sabe que vai recuar...&lt;br /&gt;Estendo a mão para que me sinta...&lt;br /&gt;Não me sente nesta curta distância...&lt;br /&gt;Sou fantasma de mim próprio...&lt;br /&gt;Vejo-me etéreo enquanto o sol do verão dá lugar à sombra do inverno&lt;br /&gt;Neste recuo temporal...&lt;br /&gt;Até ao dia em que fui desconhecido...&lt;br /&gt;A saliva esgota-se-me na garganta...&lt;br /&gt;É tempo de dizer ao tempo que está no tempo de dizer adeus ao tempo...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-8462248502353419137?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/8462248502353419137/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=8462248502353419137' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/8462248502353419137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/8462248502353419137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/12/sofro-em-recuo.html' title='Sofro em recuo'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-6381753810350683096</id><published>2008-11-10T18:45:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-11-10T18:52:57.511Z</updated><title type='text'>Um oito torcido</title><content type='html'>Um mar de gente revolta&lt;br /&gt;Encima um alazão parado&lt;br /&gt;Cóleras expiram de suas narinas&lt;br /&gt;Relinchos pelo bem amado&lt;br /&gt;De entre aqueles que sofrem&lt;br /&gt;As atrozes tiranias do Estado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marcham silenciando a dor&lt;br /&gt;Por colinas que de tão largas&lt;br /&gt;Estreitam ante a torrente&lt;br /&gt;De lava humana que sobe&lt;br /&gt;Pela chaminé do vulcão que lavra&lt;br /&gt;As encostas de uma nação.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reescrevem a história&lt;br /&gt;Cunhando-a de pessoal&lt;br /&gt;Fazem parte dum ponto final&lt;br /&gt;Numa frase reticenciada&lt;br /&gt;De ideias por acabar&lt;br /&gt;Numa vida sentenciada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Final amargo&lt;br /&gt;Vitória almejada&lt;br /&gt;Certeza encontrada e reiterada&lt;br /&gt;Perdida na falsa palavra&lt;br /&gt;Um breve relance de optimismo&lt;br /&gt;Uma alegria momentânea&lt;br /&gt;Uma adaga que crava&lt;br /&gt;O coração de um sonhador.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Até onde perenerão os infiéis&lt;br /&gt;Que afundam a nau Lusitana?&lt;br /&gt;Até quando mantê-los cruéis&lt;br /&gt;Que assassinam a puritana&lt;br /&gt;Educação Flausiana?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-6381753810350683096?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/6381753810350683096/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=6381753810350683096' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/6381753810350683096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/6381753810350683096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/11/um-oito-torcido.html' title='Um oito torcido'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-3054795961461021978</id><published>2008-11-01T15:35:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-11-01T15:48:33.357Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Crónica de um último suspiro</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Tenho de acordar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;A burocracia clama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;O soldado de papel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Perdeu a sua alma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Nas chamas da tinta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Acabou-se a sua chama.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Olhos cavados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Ausentes de vida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Passos que foram sagrados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Agora comem-no vivo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Pelos trilhos andados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Sombras a pedido.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"Sim Senhor"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Grita a voz mortiça&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"É para já"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Diz em surdina&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"Porque não?..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Silencia a sina.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"Aqui estão"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Anuncia a solidão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"O que não consigo fazer"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Assume com resignação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"Mas tem de ser"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Confirma a direcção.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Abandona(-se) e cai&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Ombros ao lado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Afunda-se na cadeira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Está desolado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Não consegue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Está isolado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;A esperança é a última fronteira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Onde todos pretendem ir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Mas todos esperam a intrepidez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;De quem ousa fugir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Da marasma estupidez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Para colher os ventos do devir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"Faz assim"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Anunciação divina&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"Não te preocupes"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Mantém a sua sisma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"Alinha que é tudo manso"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Eleva a submissão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"Mantém-te tanso"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Aconselha a vizinha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;E os cães vão ladrando&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Enquanto a caravana passa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;É o cheiro putrefacto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;De quem já morreu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Mas pensa que está vivo de facto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-3054795961461021978?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/3054795961461021978/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=3054795961461021978' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/3054795961461021978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/3054795961461021978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/11/crnica-de-um-ltimo-suspiro.html' title='Crónica de um último suspiro'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-4057680363462885669</id><published>2008-10-26T16:49:00.006Z</published><updated>2008-11-01T15:54:33.356Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Sonho ou acordar de um pesadelo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Sonhei que sonhava&lt;br /&gt;Acordei do sonho que sonhava&lt;br /&gt;Para adormecer acordado&lt;br /&gt;E ver que dormia sonhando acordado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Negro o sol que envolve&lt;br /&gt;Na argúcia da dicotomia angélica&lt;br /&gt;Ombro com ombro degladiando pela minha alma&lt;br /&gt;Que se afoga e esvai no sofrer que está para vir.&lt;br /&gt;É melhor responde o sonho&lt;br /&gt;Que assim o futuro se mantenha&lt;br /&gt;Não sofras pelo que não tens&lt;br /&gt;Nem sonhes com o que te alcança.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flutuo de encontro a mim&lt;br /&gt;Àquela voz que me chama&lt;br /&gt;Aquela que diz&lt;br /&gt;Não entregues a tua chama&lt;br /&gt;Porque de usado basta humilhado&lt;br /&gt;O fruto do que queriam jaz na sua cama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vozes distantes ecoam&lt;br /&gt;Homos no feminino surdinam a alma&lt;br /&gt;Pares díspares na desilusão&lt;br /&gt;Pela segurança anseiam da partilha&lt;br /&gt;Por serem Homos a ilusão&lt;br /&gt;De que assim a felicidade alcançarão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já vi quem sois&lt;br /&gt;Já observei tantos que são dois&lt;br /&gt;Desperdícios humanos da vida&lt;br /&gt;Parelhas de Vacas não de Bois&lt;br /&gt;Insanidade plural da sede em séde&lt;br /&gt;No receio do anseio que se nega&lt;br /&gt;Ou terá sido um engano atroz?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estou em paz no meu ódio pacífico&lt;br /&gt;Estou em guerra no meu amor perdido&lt;br /&gt;Estou soldado fundido&lt;br /&gt;Neste poço fundo incompreendido&lt;br /&gt;De não se saber sabendo&lt;br /&gt;Que se pensa que se sabe&lt;br /&gt;Mas no fundo se duvida!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-4057680363462885669?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/4057680363462885669/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=4057680363462885669' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/4057680363462885669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/4057680363462885669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/10/sonho-ou-acordar-de-um-pesadelo.html' title='Sonho ou acordar de um pesadelo'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-5333206230202665584</id><published>2008-09-05T16:21:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T16:21:31.199+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Letra de Música'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Songs'/><title type='text'>Escura a noite!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O mundo está escuro&lt;br /&gt;Cobre o espaço&lt;br /&gt;Almas escuras&lt;br /&gt;Dentro deste pedaço&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andamos à deriva&lt;br /&gt;Sem poder olhar&lt;br /&gt;Chocamos na rua&lt;br /&gt;Queremos sonhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas o sonho é breve&lt;br /&gt;Choca ali&lt;br /&gt;A parede é tua&lt;br /&gt;Não m’encontro a mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abriste a porta&lt;br /&gt;Deixaste-me entrar&lt;br /&gt;Arrombei a sorte&lt;br /&gt;Estou a chorar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perdidas em mim&lt;br /&gt;Lágrimas caem&lt;br /&gt;Não se soltam&lt;br /&gt;Não seguem viagem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sonho acordado&lt;br /&gt;Com o que não tenho&lt;br /&gt;Persigo o fado&lt;br /&gt;Que ainda mantenho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero crescer&lt;br /&gt;Ser o que não sou&lt;br /&gt;Encontrar-me belo&lt;br /&gt;Encontrar onde estou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bruma adensa&lt;br /&gt;O nevoeiro brilha&lt;br /&gt;Na noite escura&lt;br /&gt;Finalmente se avizinha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas o sonho é breve&lt;br /&gt;Choca ali&lt;br /&gt;A parede é tua&lt;br /&gt;Não m’encontro a mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preciso continuar a procurar… (termina)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-5333206230202665584?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/5333206230202665584/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=5333206230202665584' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/5333206230202665584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/5333206230202665584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/09/escura-noite.html' title='Escura a noite!'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-8583022573712153856</id><published>2008-09-05T16:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T16:08:24.462+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Letra de Música'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Songs'/><title type='text'>Imprison</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Imprison in my (own) prison&lt;br /&gt;I look at the sky&lt;br /&gt;And all I can see&lt;br /&gt;Is the clouded eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stars are no more&lt;br /&gt;The light of time&lt;br /&gt;Things were lost&lt;br /&gt;Never get behind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if you turn&lt;br /&gt;Back to the place&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is the same&lt;br /&gt;You left once in time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imprison in my (own) prison&lt;br /&gt;I look at the sky&lt;br /&gt;And all I can see&lt;br /&gt;Is the clouded eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends are forever&lt;br /&gt;Stories lived not to be told&lt;br /&gt;Secrets of the gathering&lt;br /&gt;Is not to be unfold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now everything is lost&lt;br /&gt;Even if we can find&lt;br /&gt;The gates to the track&lt;br /&gt;Trails of the mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imprison in my (own) prison&lt;br /&gt;I look at the sky&lt;br /&gt;And all I can see&lt;br /&gt;Is the clouded eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-8583022573712153856?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/8583022573712153856/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=8583022573712153856' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/8583022573712153856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/8583022573712153856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/09/imprison.html' title='Imprison'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-513096206310666054</id><published>2008-09-05T15:36:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T15:55:37.294+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Letra de Música'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Songs'/><title type='text'>Goodbye</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;There comes a time&lt;br /&gt;When all say goodbye&lt;br /&gt;There comes a time&lt;br /&gt;When lovers can’t disguise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is a battle field&lt;br /&gt;No one will ever win&lt;br /&gt;And all they ever get&lt;br /&gt;Is pain… is pain… all is paiiiiiiinnnnnn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moments where so beautiful&lt;br /&gt;Yet they were so doubtful&lt;br /&gt;Now we look back&lt;br /&gt;And find it was a lost time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hands on hand&lt;br /&gt;Lips in lips&lt;br /&gt;Bonded together&lt;br /&gt;Unable to fulfil&lt;br /&gt;The dream could come true&lt;br /&gt;But real comes in&lt;br /&gt;Gods make it through&lt;br /&gt;Nothing to believe in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is a battle field&lt;br /&gt;No one will ever win&lt;br /&gt;And all they ever get&lt;br /&gt;Is pain… is pain… all is paiiiiiiinnnnnn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now everything is quiet&lt;br /&gt;Soul is tamed&lt;br /&gt;Body is appeased&lt;br /&gt;Eyes don’t shut&lt;br /&gt;‘cause they froze the image&lt;br /&gt;Of the love lost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts of love&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts of family&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts of an unborn child&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts of a light&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is a battle field&lt;br /&gt;No one will ever win&lt;br /&gt;And all they ever get&lt;br /&gt;Is pain… is pain… all is paiiiiiiinnnnnn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uhuuuuuuun…. Uhuuuuuuuun… uhuuuuuuuuuuun … uhuuuuu aaaaaaaaahaaaaaaa&lt;br /&gt;uhuuuuu aaaaaaaaahaaaaaaa… (3 times)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-513096206310666054?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/513096206310666054/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=513096206310666054' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/513096206310666054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/513096206310666054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/09/goodbye.html' title='Goodbye'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-2608355384157989185</id><published>2008-09-05T15:34:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T15:36:32.752+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>Ser Poeta (To be a poet)</title><content type='html'>P - Possibilidade (de)&lt;br /&gt;O - Omissão (da)&lt;br /&gt;E - Existência&lt;br /&gt;T - Transcendental (do)&lt;br /&gt;A - Amor&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-2608355384157989185?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/2608355384157989185/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=2608355384157989185' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/2608355384157989185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/2608355384157989185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/09/ser-poeta-to-be-poet.html' title='Ser Poeta (To be a poet)'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-168133589702638227</id><published>2008-09-02T20:09:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T20:23:50.058+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>Who's to blame</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Who’s to blame when no one feels the shame?&lt;br /&gt;What’s the game when no one feels the pain?&lt;br /&gt;Where does everybody go when no one knows?&lt;br /&gt;Where to hide the face when you fall in disgrace?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matrices rough and hard&lt;br /&gt;Lie on the floor&lt;br /&gt;As you soar at contact&lt;br /&gt;By the open door&lt;br /&gt;Pushed forward by the hand&lt;br /&gt;Of the undecided.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who’s to blame when no one feels the shame?&lt;br /&gt;What’s the game when no one feels the pain?&lt;br /&gt;Where does everybody go when no one knows?&lt;br /&gt;Where to hide the face when you fall in disgrace?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clouds makes you fly soft&lt;br /&gt;Winding your hair to the stars&lt;br /&gt;A sudden turn in the sun&lt;br /&gt;And you burn your eyes&lt;br /&gt;And loose sight of it all&lt;br /&gt;Wondering about all lies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who’s to blame when no one feels the shame?&lt;br /&gt;What’s the game when no one feels the pain?&lt;br /&gt;Where does everybody go when no one knows?&lt;br /&gt;Where to hide the face when you fall in disgrace?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your landing is hard&lt;br /&gt;You still not in yourself&lt;br /&gt;All your feathers ripped apart&lt;br /&gt;Rotten clothes for warmth&lt;br /&gt;Of body and soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who’s to blame when no one feels the shame?&lt;br /&gt;What’s the game when no one feels the pain?&lt;br /&gt;Where does everybody go when no one knows?&lt;br /&gt;Where to hide the face when you fall in disgrace?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the dream come to an end&lt;br /&gt;And the nightmare begins&lt;br /&gt;You awake in a sudden move&lt;br /&gt;And realise you were never alive!...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-168133589702638227?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/168133589702638227/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=168133589702638227' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/168133589702638227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/168133589702638227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/09/whos-to-blame.html' title='Who&apos;s to blame'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-822728717134606369</id><published>2008-08-25T00:49:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T00:57:02.961+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>Inner fight</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Gipsy nights&lt;br /&gt;Wet dreams&lt;br /&gt;Liquor fight&lt;br /&gt;Brawl in the sand&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I’d like to fight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“This piece of land is mine”&lt;br /&gt;The man says&lt;br /&gt;“Mine, just mine!” he shouts&lt;br /&gt;And the crowd waits in expectation&lt;br /&gt;For the developments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is quit now&lt;br /&gt;The thin breeze whispers slowly&lt;br /&gt;As the night becomes day&lt;br /&gt;Engulfing the dark&lt;br /&gt;As it cleans the sky.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-822728717134606369?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/822728717134606369/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=822728717134606369' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/822728717134606369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/822728717134606369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/08/inner-fight.html' title='Inner fight'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-3316423373996386962</id><published>2008-08-25T00:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T00:48:56.373+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>Awareness</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The ocean&lt;br /&gt;Green blue water&lt;br /&gt;Cradle of life&lt;br /&gt;And all that is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We awake one morning&lt;br /&gt;You in there&lt;br /&gt;Me in here&lt;br /&gt;Both scared&lt;br /&gt;For what is near&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth?... Lies?...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do they mean?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the womb we meet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soft… tender… cosy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are we lazy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awake! The time as come&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whisper! The time is done&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my! We’re gone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-3316423373996386962?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/3316423373996386962/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=3316423373996386962' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/3316423373996386962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/3316423373996386962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/08/awareness.html' title='Awareness'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-7932477207149263798</id><published>2008-08-25T00:29:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T00:39:50.876+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>Hopes and dreams II act</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hope is the last resort&lt;br /&gt;Of a desperate man&lt;br /&gt;As he desperately fight&lt;br /&gt;To get out of the hole&lt;br /&gt;He created for himself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lost opportunities&lt;br /&gt;Lost caves of solitude&lt;br /&gt;Where he was happy all alone&lt;br /&gt;The shadows of the fire&lt;br /&gt;Crypts through the air&lt;br /&gt;That sound, that light&lt;br /&gt;That kind of night&lt;br /&gt;Awakes him to life&lt;br /&gt;And he finds that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope is the last resort&lt;br /&gt;Of a desperate man&lt;br /&gt;As he desperately fight&lt;br /&gt;To get out of the hole&lt;br /&gt;He created for himself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He crawls out into the moon&lt;br /&gt;Trees embrace him gently&lt;br /&gt;The thin breeze cuddles his face&lt;br /&gt;He is alive he realize&lt;br /&gt;Now he cries out&lt;br /&gt;Open his mouth but no sound is made&lt;br /&gt;As he realizes that&lt;br /&gt;There’s no time to go back&lt;br /&gt;And he hopes, and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope is the last resort&lt;br /&gt;Of a desperate man&lt;br /&gt;As he desperately fight&lt;br /&gt;To get out of the hole&lt;br /&gt;He created for himself&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-7932477207149263798?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/7932477207149263798/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=7932477207149263798' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/7932477207149263798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/7932477207149263798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/08/hopes-and-dreams-ii-act.html' title='Hopes and dreams II act'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-1433371254517689738</id><published>2008-08-25T00:17:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T00:41:30.658+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>Hopes and dreams I act</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A moment in time&lt;br /&gt;Hopes and dreams come&lt;br /&gt;For you and me&lt;br /&gt;In the pleasured numb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Standing on my own&lt;br /&gt;Thinking of all surrounding systems&lt;br /&gt;Moments stand still&lt;br /&gt;As I count the numbers&lt;br /&gt;Of those who succeed&lt;br /&gt;Mumbling whispered words&lt;br /&gt;For the lost thoughts I had&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A moment in time&lt;br /&gt;Hopes and dreams come&lt;br /&gt;For you and me&lt;br /&gt;In the pleasured numb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I open my eyes&lt;br /&gt;I’m still here with you&lt;br /&gt;Nothing has changed&lt;br /&gt;We still do the same screams&lt;br /&gt;The same desperate times&lt;br /&gt;Heading me to the end in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A moment in time&lt;br /&gt;Hopes and dreams come&lt;br /&gt;For you and me&lt;br /&gt;In the pleasured numb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-1433371254517689738?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/1433371254517689738/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=1433371254517689738' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/1433371254517689738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/1433371254517689738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/08/hopes-and-dreams.html' title='Hopes and dreams I act'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-7186427776969201752</id><published>2008-08-19T19:13:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T19:19:40.387+01:00</updated><title type='text'>As mulheres</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Mulheres&lt;br /&gt;Martinho da Vila&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Já tive mulheres&lt;br /&gt;De todas as cores&lt;br /&gt;De várias idades&lt;br /&gt;De muitos amores&lt;br /&gt;Com umas até&lt;br /&gt;Certo tempo fiquei&lt;br /&gt;Prá outras apenas&lt;br /&gt;Um pouco me dei...&lt;br /&gt;Já tive mulheres&lt;br /&gt;Do tipo atrevida&lt;br /&gt;Do tipo acanhada&lt;br /&gt;Do tipo vivida&lt;br /&gt;Casada carente&lt;br /&gt;Solteira feliz&lt;br /&gt;Já tive donzela&lt;br /&gt;E até meretriz...&lt;br /&gt;Mulheres cabeça&lt;br /&gt;E desequilibradas&lt;br /&gt;Mulheres confusas&lt;br /&gt;De guerra e de paz&lt;br /&gt;Mas nenhuma delas&lt;br /&gt;Me fez tão feliz&lt;br /&gt;Como você me faz...&lt;br /&gt;Procurei&lt;br /&gt;Em todas as mulheres&lt;br /&gt;A felicidade&lt;br /&gt;Mas eu não encontrei&lt;br /&gt;E fiquei na saudade&lt;br /&gt;Foi começando bem&lt;br /&gt;Mas tudo teve um fim...&lt;br /&gt;Você é&lt;br /&gt;O sol da minha vida&lt;br /&gt;A minha vontade&lt;br /&gt;Você não é mentira&lt;br /&gt;Você é verdade&lt;br /&gt;É tudo o que um dia&lt;br /&gt;Eu sonhei prá mim...&lt;br /&gt;Já tive mulheres&lt;br /&gt;De todas as cores&lt;br /&gt;De várias idades&lt;br /&gt;De muitos amores&lt;br /&gt;Com umas até&lt;br /&gt;Certo tempo fiquei&lt;br /&gt;Prá outras apenas&lt;br /&gt;Um pouco me dei...&lt;br /&gt;Já tive mulheres&lt;br /&gt;Do tipo atrevida&lt;br /&gt;Do tipo acanhada&lt;br /&gt;Do tipo vivida&lt;br /&gt;Casada carente&lt;br /&gt;Solteira feliz&lt;br /&gt;Já tive donzela&lt;br /&gt;E até meretriz...&lt;br /&gt;Mulheres cabeça&lt;br /&gt;E desequilibradas&lt;br /&gt;Mulheres confusas&lt;br /&gt;De guerra e de paz&lt;br /&gt;Mas nenhuma delas&lt;br /&gt;Me fez tão feliz&lt;br /&gt;Como você me faz...&lt;br /&gt;Procurei&lt;br /&gt;Em todas as mulheres&lt;br /&gt;A felicidade&lt;br /&gt;Mas eu não encontrei&lt;br /&gt;E fiquei na saudade&lt;br /&gt;Foi começando bem&lt;br /&gt;Mas tudo teve um fim...&lt;br /&gt;Você é&lt;br /&gt;O sol da minha vida&lt;br /&gt;A minha vontade&lt;br /&gt;Você não é mentira&lt;br /&gt;Você é verdade&lt;br /&gt;É tudo o que um dia&lt;br /&gt;Eu sonhei prá mim...&lt;br /&gt;Procurei&lt;br /&gt;Em todas as mulheres&lt;br /&gt;A felicidade&lt;br /&gt;Mas eu não encontrei&lt;br /&gt;E fiquei na saudade&lt;br /&gt;Foi começando bem&lt;br /&gt;Mas tudo teve um fim...&lt;br /&gt;Você é&lt;br /&gt;O sol da minha vida&lt;br /&gt;A minha vontade&lt;br /&gt;Você não é mentira&lt;br /&gt;Você é verdade&lt;br /&gt;É tudo o que um dia&lt;br /&gt;Eu sonhei prá mim..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-7186427776969201752?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/7186427776969201752/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=7186427776969201752' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/7186427776969201752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/7186427776969201752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/08/as-mulheres.html' title='As mulheres'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-3257176626162473192</id><published>2008-08-17T18:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T18:30:16.692+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>The rowing man</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Misty skies&lt;br /&gt;Lives that are lies&lt;br /&gt;Smiles that disguise&lt;br /&gt;The pain we all fell inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boat is coming&lt;br /&gt;The rowing man sings&lt;br /&gt;Words of encouragement&lt;br /&gt;As he approaches&lt;br /&gt;The terminal point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time stand still&lt;br /&gt;Slow motion frames&lt;br /&gt;Passes by like a bad picture&lt;br /&gt;And the rowing man sings&lt;br /&gt;Lives are not lies&lt;br /&gt;Smiles don’t disguise&lt;br /&gt;The pain we all feel inside&lt;br /&gt;Through this misty skies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time is not yet ours&lt;br /&gt;Another tour is being made&lt;br /&gt;The rowing man don’t get tired&lt;br /&gt;Eternity is his measurement&lt;br /&gt;And he’ll return&lt;br /&gt;But not now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth is life&lt;br /&gt;Pain is no longer inside&lt;br /&gt;Life is to be lived without lies&lt;br /&gt;There’s no longer misty skies!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-3257176626162473192?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/3257176626162473192/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=3257176626162473192' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/3257176626162473192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/3257176626162473192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/08/rowing-man.html' title='The rowing man'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-2503793468177602903</id><published>2008-08-16T23:52:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T00:17:23.933+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Letra de Música'/><title type='text'>Está escura a noite</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Está escura a noite&lt;br /&gt;Que me rodeia a alma&lt;br /&gt;Não vejo o caminho&lt;br /&gt;Onde trilha a calma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu…&lt;br /&gt;Eu já não sei&lt;br /&gt;De onde tu és…&lt;br /&gt;Quem és…&lt;br /&gt;Porque és…&lt;br /&gt;Mulher! Mulher! Mulheeeeer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desiludo-me&lt;br /&gt;A ti e a mim&lt;br /&gt;Porque sou jovem&lt;br /&gt;Como o jasmim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não tenho o viço&lt;br /&gt;Dos anos pequenos&lt;br /&gt;Não sou noviço&lt;br /&gt;Mas sinto o apego&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu…&lt;br /&gt;Eu já não sei&lt;br /&gt;De onde tu és…&lt;br /&gt;Quem és…&lt;br /&gt;Porque és…&lt;br /&gt;Mulher! Mulher! Mulheeeeer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O nó que me amarra&lt;br /&gt;Já faz tempo não tinha&lt;br /&gt;Amarrei-o eu&lt;br /&gt;Esperando seres minha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas onde navegas&lt;br /&gt;Meu barco encalha&lt;br /&gt;As areias são rasas&lt;br /&gt;A quilha atrapalha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu…&lt;br /&gt;Eu já não sei&lt;br /&gt;De onde tu és…&lt;br /&gt;Quem és…&lt;br /&gt;Porque és…&lt;br /&gt;Mulher! Mulher! Mulheeeeer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O meu capitão&lt;br /&gt;Ouvido à sineta&lt;br /&gt;Empurra na escuridão&lt;br /&gt;Olha’mpulheta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cego na noite&lt;br /&gt;No dealbar da vida&lt;br /&gt;Perdido no dia&lt;br /&gt;Do qu'olvida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu…&lt;br /&gt;Eu já não sei&lt;br /&gt;De onde tu és…&lt;br /&gt;Quem és…&lt;br /&gt;Porque és…&lt;br /&gt;Mulher! Mulher! Mulheeeeer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora encalhado&lt;br /&gt;Por voluntário sido&lt;br /&gt;Tem de navegar&lt;br /&gt;Neste barco rompido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A água entra&lt;br /&gt;O mar invade&lt;br /&gt;O último sopro&lt;br /&gt;Daquela saudade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu…&lt;br /&gt;Eu já não sei&lt;br /&gt;De onde tu és…&lt;br /&gt;Quem és…&lt;br /&gt;Porque és…&lt;br /&gt;Mulher! Mulher! Mulheeeeer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A falta de ar&lt;br /&gt;O murro no estômago&lt;br /&gt;O salgado do mar&lt;br /&gt;Alivia o lodo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preso ele olha&lt;br /&gt;Para cima o céu&lt;br /&gt;A lua a seu lado&lt;br /&gt;Acolhe o chapéu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu…&lt;br /&gt;Eu já não sei&lt;br /&gt;De onde tu és…&lt;br /&gt;Quem és…&lt;br /&gt;Porque és…&lt;br /&gt;Mulher! Mulher! Mulheeeeer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É o seu legado&lt;br /&gt;Aquilo que fez&lt;br /&gt;Aos outros amado&lt;br /&gt;Sobrou-lhe a vez&lt;br /&gt;No início era mel&lt;br /&gt;No meio paixão&lt;br /&gt;A sua sorte é nula&lt;br /&gt;É igual ao salmão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu…&lt;br /&gt;Eu já sei&lt;br /&gt;De onde tu és…&lt;br /&gt;Quem és…&lt;br /&gt;Porque és…&lt;br /&gt;Mulher! Mulher! Mulheeeeer!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-2503793468177602903?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/2503793468177602903/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=2503793468177602903' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/2503793468177602903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/2503793468177602903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/08/est-escura-noite.html' title='Está escura a noite'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-89687556245743726</id><published>2008-08-15T23:44:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T23:47:28.614+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Diferentes</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Um dia numa vida&lt;br /&gt;Um rapaz conheceu uma menina&lt;br /&gt;Acendeu-se um desejo, um sentimento&lt;br /&gt;Fixou o olhar para não mais parar.&lt;br /&gt;Via-a de tempos a tempos&lt;br /&gt;A indiferença no olhar&lt;br /&gt;Nem notava naquela criatura&lt;br /&gt;Que por ali andava a pairar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ele é diferente&lt;br /&gt;Tanto no ser como no falar&lt;br /&gt;Afasta pela frente&lt;br /&gt;Para depois cativar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quis ficar com ela até ao fim dos dias&lt;br /&gt;Desde esse momento inicial&lt;br /&gt;Naquela montra silenciosa&lt;br /&gt;Referida na mente como “a tal”&lt;br /&gt;A que mudaria o sentido de ser&lt;br /&gt;E o elevaria à condição imortal.&lt;br /&gt;Os momentos foram-se revelando&lt;br /&gt;Os espaços sendo preenchidos&lt;br /&gt;Os sinais foram aparecendo&lt;br /&gt;E os pensamentos sendo lidos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ela é diferente&lt;br /&gt;Tanto no ser como no falar&lt;br /&gt;Afasta pela frente&lt;br /&gt;Para depois cativar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chegaram os dias do fim&lt;br /&gt;Momentos únicos partilhados&lt;br /&gt;Os sabores ficaram no ar&lt;br /&gt;Os saltos no escuro foram dados.&lt;br /&gt;Astral aparte mas unidos&lt;br /&gt;Caminharam lado a lado&lt;br /&gt;Sorriam sem observar&lt;br /&gt;O amor pedido era não dado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ela e ele são diferentes&lt;br /&gt;Tanto no ser como no falar&lt;br /&gt;Afastam pela frente&lt;br /&gt;Para depois cativar porque…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um é Anjo e Outro Arcanjo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-89687556245743726?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/89687556245743726/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=89687556245743726' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/89687556245743726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/89687556245743726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/08/diferentes.html' title='Diferentes'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-7428777281406013530</id><published>2008-08-15T19:54:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:57:50.282+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>O arado</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Há tantas almas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Desencontradas no seu encontro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Perdidas no espaço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Prenchido pelo outro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Andamos todos à deriva&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Até os que têm capitão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Precisamos de quem nos siga&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E nos arranque o coração.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Damo-lo de bom grado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pois rico e fértil é este terreno&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Para um digno e bom arado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Que o preencha e torne pleno.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Onde andam as mãos que agarram o arado?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-7428777281406013530?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/7428777281406013530/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=7428777281406013530' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/7428777281406013530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/7428777281406013530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/08/o-arado.html' title='O arado'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-1187384710181170510</id><published>2008-08-15T19:42:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T19:57:50.282+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Dúvidas e Certezas</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Tão depressa o sonho canta&lt;br /&gt;Tão depressa desmorona&lt;br /&gt;Tão depressa se encanta&lt;br /&gt;Como se esvai e sente que morra!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mal de escárnio&lt;br /&gt;Mal dizer e malassorte&lt;br /&gt;De tão longe apartes&lt;br /&gt;Haja esperança na consorte!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noites que são dias&lt;br /&gt;Dias que se escondem na noite&lt;br /&gt;Por vezes a alma esfria&lt;br /&gt;A mesma que merece o açoite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Açoite pelo sentir&lt;br /&gt;Adolescente noutra fase&lt;br /&gt;Nunca mais se deve ousar despir&lt;br /&gt;Nem sucumbir ao êxtase!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sente que o outro sentir&lt;br /&gt;É a porta para o seu almejar&lt;br /&gt;Vence aquilo que te não faz dormir&lt;br /&gt;Não mostres o teu lacrimejar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem não sabe o que quer&lt;br /&gt;Depois quer e é tarde&lt;br /&gt;Perder aquilo que depois fere&lt;br /&gt;Aquilo que no fundo depois arde!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Está atenta&lt;br /&gt;Não percas a oportunidade&lt;br /&gt;Única e sublime&lt;br /&gt;Um amor na cidade!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-1187384710181170510?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/1187384710181170510/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=1187384710181170510' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/1187384710181170510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/1187384710181170510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/08/dvidas-e-certezas.html' title='Dúvidas e Certezas'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-3913138077611524129</id><published>2008-08-09T22:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T22:16:42.546+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>A sereia</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A sereia voltou&lt;br /&gt;Voltou a encantar com os seus cânticos&lt;br /&gt;A música suave que embala&lt;br /&gt;Os marinheiros até encalharem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O nevoeiro adensa-se&lt;br /&gt;A decisão está no ar&lt;br /&gt;E na água por debaixo&lt;br /&gt;Para quem sabe nadar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A ilha está mesmo ali&lt;br /&gt;Frutas e animais exóticos&lt;br /&gt;Prometidos com um olhar&lt;br /&gt;Por aquele olho óptico.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O batel desce à água&lt;br /&gt;O capitão solitário rema a bom remar&lt;br /&gt;Vence a corrente por sob as calmas águas&lt;br /&gt;Está no caminho para se soltar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abandona o corpo exausto na praia&lt;br /&gt;Saboreia aquela areia virgem&lt;br /&gt;Uma nativa só a pisou&lt;br /&gt;Coberta de uma alva penugem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acena de longe&lt;br /&gt;Ordena a partida&lt;br /&gt;Aqui fica a viver&lt;br /&gt;A sua não é de ida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ele está feliz!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-3913138077611524129?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/3913138077611524129/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=3913138077611524129' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/3913138077611524129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/3913138077611524129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/08/sereia.html' title='A sereia'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-3455517878602621250</id><published>2008-08-08T21:17:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:54.728+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Song to the lost angel lost...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Not long ago&lt;br /&gt;An angel comes to my side&lt;br /&gt;My eyes get a sudden light&lt;br /&gt;I start laughing inside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wings both tied up&lt;br /&gt;No wonders or mysteries&lt;br /&gt;Life is a prison&lt;br /&gt;And the angel denies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love like I never did before&lt;br /&gt;Now in a way older&lt;br /&gt;This time it’s so stronger&lt;br /&gt;I hope my heart never get colder!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As it started&lt;br /&gt;Closing moments attached&lt;br /&gt;Slow spins turned&lt;br /&gt;Stolen kisses from the sky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a brief dark freedom time&lt;br /&gt;In a cosy tight space&lt;br /&gt;Angels became humans&lt;br /&gt;And enjoy it to the finest life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love like I never did before&lt;br /&gt;Now in a way older&lt;br /&gt;This time it’s so stronger&lt;br /&gt;I hope my heart never get colder!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An open channel is open&lt;br /&gt;From time to time congratulated&lt;br /&gt;With words of both hope and deliverance&lt;br /&gt;And also of apartness felted&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The travel is to be made&lt;br /&gt;The sign is to be reached&lt;br /&gt;It’s time to decide&lt;br /&gt;To run or to die&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love like I never did before&lt;br /&gt;Now in a way older&lt;br /&gt;This time it’s so stronger&lt;br /&gt;I hope my heart never get colder!&lt;br /&gt;Há não muito tempo&lt;br /&gt;Um anjo veio até ao meu lado&lt;br /&gt;Os meus olhos ganharam um brilho súbito&lt;br /&gt;Senti uma alegria interior&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As asas de ambos atadas&lt;br /&gt;Sem mistérios ou imaginações&lt;br /&gt;A vida é uma prisão&lt;br /&gt;Que o anjo nega&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu amo como nunca amei antes&lt;br /&gt;Agora de uma maneira madura&lt;br /&gt;Desta vez é tão forte&lt;br /&gt;Espero que o meu coração não arrefeça!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando começou&lt;br /&gt;Momentos próximos ligados&lt;br /&gt;Voltas lentas rodadas&lt;br /&gt;Beijos roubados ao céu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Num momento escuro do tempo&lt;br /&gt;Num espaço acolhedor e apertado&lt;br /&gt;Os anjos tornaram-se humanos&lt;br /&gt;E viveram a vida no seu melhor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu amo como nunca amei antes&lt;br /&gt;Agora de uma maneira madura&lt;br /&gt;Desta vez é tão forte&lt;br /&gt;Espero que o meu coração não arrefeça!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um canal livre está aberto&lt;br /&gt;Congratulado de tempos a tempos&lt;br /&gt;Com palavras tanto de esperança e entrega&lt;br /&gt;Mas também de sentido afastamento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A viagem é para ser feita&lt;br /&gt;O sinal é para ser alcançado&lt;br /&gt;É tempo de decidir&lt;br /&gt;Se correr se morrer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu amo como nunca amei antes&lt;br /&gt;Agora de uma maneira madura&lt;br /&gt;Desta vez é tão forte&lt;br /&gt;Espero que o meu coração não arrefeça!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-3455517878602621250?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/3455517878602621250/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=3455517878602621250' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/3455517878602621250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/3455517878602621250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/08/song-to-lost-angel-lost.html' title='Song to the lost angel lost...'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-1392557926745715796</id><published>2008-08-08T20:50:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:54.729+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Um adeus soprado?...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Um sopro… um adeus…&lt;br /&gt;Uma voz soprada na noite&lt;br /&gt;Através do texto longínquo&lt;br /&gt;Um momento…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não pareceu um adeus&lt;br /&gt;Nem tão pouco até breve&lt;br /&gt;Pareceu o que era&lt;br /&gt;Um desejo…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não o encarei&lt;br /&gt;Senti-o presente&lt;br /&gt;Na certeza do que tinha sido&lt;br /&gt;Não o relevei…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A brisa levantada&lt;br /&gt;Pelo soprar ameno&lt;br /&gt;Abespinhou-se em tempestade&lt;br /&gt;Que assola a costa…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As ondas escalam a rocha&lt;br /&gt;Alto, cada vez mais alto&lt;br /&gt;Em cada investida&lt;br /&gt;Expondo o coração da rocha nua…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As andorinhas escarpadas&lt;br /&gt;Sentem o espaço desaparecer&lt;br /&gt;Inspiram inquietudes crescentes&lt;br /&gt;Ponderam a sua fuga dela…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ainda há esperança&lt;br /&gt;Na vinda da bonança&lt;br /&gt;No sopro quente&lt;br /&gt;Que traga de volta a segurança…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Segurança que perde a força&lt;br /&gt;Em cada nova onda pensante&lt;br /&gt;Em cada mensagem de Deus&lt;br /&gt;Enviada e não remetida…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O castelo está vazio&lt;br /&gt;No cimo da escarpa observando&lt;br /&gt;Condenando o horizonte&lt;br /&gt;Pelo retorno do que o preenche…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vive cada dia pelo seu dia&lt;br /&gt;Rei forte rei&lt;br /&gt;Assume o teu destino real&lt;br /&gt;As batalhas perdem-se também…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E tu perdeste esta!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-1392557926745715796?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/1392557926745715796/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=1392557926745715796' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/1392557926745715796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/1392557926745715796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/08/um-adeus-soprado.html' title='Um adeus soprado?...'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-1540484256196546008</id><published>2008-08-04T15:46:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:54.729+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Quem sou eu?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um símio&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Banido e ostracizado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Incompreendido e anulado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Preso por um fio.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quem somos nós&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Na poeira cósmica do destino?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quem somos nós&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Se não temos apoio?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quem somos nós, mesmo?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quem sou eu?...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-1540484256196546008?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/1540484256196546008/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=1540484256196546008' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/1540484256196546008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/1540484256196546008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/08/ahn.html' title='Quem sou eu?'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-3448646112237643729</id><published>2008-08-04T15:43:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:54.730+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Canais</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mil mortes vivido&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mil Adagas trespassam a carne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Os sentidos todos eles ressoam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pelos gritos que no ar ecoam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pela certeza do eclípse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O ocaso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Terá sido por acaso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ou não deverei fazer azo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ao "potencial" ragazzo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Em terras de Imperador?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nunca se conhece alguém&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Os segredos sublevados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Não se dão a ninguém&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mas as palavras leva-as&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O vento a todo o lado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E um espírito do além avisado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Encontra-as nas esquinas da vida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Os sinais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Os ténues sinais marcados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Num anjo vermelho indicados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Parecem não ser demais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mas o olho da águia é avisado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Vê para além do horizonte alado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E o futuro é agora jamais!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-3448646112237643729?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/3448646112237643729/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=3448646112237643729' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/3448646112237643729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/3448646112237643729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/08/canais.html' title='Canais'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-289727361218498894</id><published>2008-08-04T15:40:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:54.730+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Dragão flamejante</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Não estou bem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Enfrento-me aqui e agora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;por entre dragões flamejantes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;em baforadas quentes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;que procuram derrotar-me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O mar está revolto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Discute com a praia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;De cada vez que se espraia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Em cada onda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Levanta areia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mas a praia serena&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Encaixa os golpes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Impávida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O mar recua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Espera, procura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Que a praia se renda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Vá atrás dele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mas não vai&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Porque a praia é o mar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Está com ele e por seu debaixo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Amparando-o sempre.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-289727361218498894?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/289727361218498894/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=289727361218498894' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/289727361218498894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/289727361218498894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/08/drago-flamejante.html' title='Dragão flamejante'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-4298546778318252438</id><published>2008-08-03T20:39:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:54.730+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>O Amor e o Tempo</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O tempo pergunta ao tempo quanto tempo o tempo tem. O tempo responde ao tempo que o tempo tem tanto tempo quanto tempo o tempo tem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Amor é feito de Tempo&lt;br /&gt;O Tempo constrói o Amor&lt;br /&gt;Fazemos coisas com o Tempo&lt;br /&gt;Que nos trazem dor.&lt;br /&gt;O Amor com o Tempo&lt;br /&gt;Pode-se transformar&lt;br /&gt;Nunca se extingue&lt;br /&gt;Mas deixa-nos a duvidar&lt;br /&gt;Porque será que cresce&lt;br /&gt;Em vez de minguar?&lt;br /&gt;Mas o Tempo traz novidades&lt;br /&gt;O que era certo&lt;br /&gt;Deixa-nos saudades&lt;br /&gt;Mas quere-lo-emos sempre por perto?&lt;br /&gt;O Tempo mostra os acontecimentos&lt;br /&gt;As questões e as decisões&lt;br /&gt;O Amor mostra os sentimentos&lt;br /&gt;Arrasa com os corações.&lt;br /&gt;Porque não volta o Tempo para trás&lt;br /&gt;E se junta novamente ao Amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-4298546778318252438?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/4298546778318252438/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=4298546778318252438' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/4298546778318252438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/4298546778318252438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/08/o-amor-e-o-tempo.html' title='O Amor e o Tempo'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-2478453919097340583</id><published>2008-08-03T20:37:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:16.370+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>Wishes</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I dived in your eyes today&lt;br /&gt;That bluish colour just in witched me&lt;br /&gt;I'm staring at you&lt;br /&gt;Though you're not here&lt;br /&gt;You hover above like a cloud&lt;br /&gt;Driven by the winds created by my thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You came to me like a whisper&lt;br /&gt;Moaned by the silent night&lt;br /&gt;The sound of your unheard voice&lt;br /&gt;Hammers my head like a tingle bell&lt;br /&gt;Smooth and quieting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you were here&lt;br /&gt;Like water to the thirsty&lt;br /&gt;Making me wonder&lt;br /&gt;How it would be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come and come&lt;br /&gt;Don’t feel like you’re aside&lt;br /&gt;I’m someone I’m not anyone&lt;br /&gt;I can come like the tide&lt;br /&gt;Embracing you in a gentle hug&lt;br /&gt;Making you loose your anger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t fight but don’t let go&lt;br /&gt;Be you and only you&lt;br /&gt;And everybody will know&lt;br /&gt;That you mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allow the sun melt that cover of snow&lt;br /&gt;Build around your warm heart as a sign&lt;br /&gt;That you’re still alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cry out loud to the one by your side&lt;br /&gt;“Make me happy or other wise&lt;br /&gt;You’ll be looking at an empty space&lt;br /&gt;Dragged by your own hands&lt;br /&gt;And in place of my heart will be a shallow hole.”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make a stand&lt;br /&gt;Free your self from the chains&lt;br /&gt;That keeps you sorrow&lt;br /&gt;Make a move&lt;br /&gt;Fly high with the eagles&lt;br /&gt;Be them and let them be you&lt;br /&gt;Like a dream come true.(read this through your eyes, your feelings and hopes, and you’ll find me…)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-2478453919097340583?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/2478453919097340583/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=2478453919097340583' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/2478453919097340583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/2478453919097340583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/08/wishes.html' title='Wishes'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-747103184214987181</id><published>2008-08-02T22:17:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:54.731+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>As ilegalidades e os lobos</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Os lobos espreitam nas sombras&lt;br /&gt;Aproveitam as fragilidades&lt;br /&gt;Aqueles que só vêem montras&lt;br /&gt;Escapam-se-lhes as verdades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aceitam um qualquer palavrete&lt;br /&gt;Numa rolante informação&lt;br /&gt;Dada pelo tiranete&lt;br /&gt;Que comanda a nãção.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os congressistas educativos&lt;br /&gt;Falam falam mas enganam a população&lt;br /&gt;Desde que os seus poleiros estejam cativos&lt;br /&gt;Pouco lhes importa a educação.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os pequenos do contrato&lt;br /&gt;Míopes e sem futuro&lt;br /&gt;Aceitam as migalhas do prato&lt;br /&gt;Dobram os ideais daquilo que é puro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todos juntos, Galistas e Galitos&lt;br /&gt;Condenam à morte o escolar&lt;br /&gt;Na não renovação de muitos&lt;br /&gt;Todos acabam à morte por se sentenciar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu não calo a minha voz&lt;br /&gt;Nem de as ilegalidades denunciar&lt;br /&gt;Pois pior pecado cometo&lt;br /&gt;se a minha voz calar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Piedade dos que se calam&lt;br /&gt;Por receio dos lobos&lt;br /&gt;Mas eles não são mais que cordeiros&lt;br /&gt;E nós não menos que bobos!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-747103184214987181?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/747103184214987181/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=747103184214987181' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/747103184214987181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/747103184214987181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/08/as-ilegalidades-e-os-lobos.html' title='As ilegalidades e os lobos'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-1484377046880132689</id><published>2008-08-01T13:09:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:54.731+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Tarde de Verão</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Abandono-me lentamente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ao calor da esplanada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O céu ao longe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Miragem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O mar por baixo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Vassalagem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Perdem-se ambos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Não há nada no ar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nem nuvens nem aves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nada, nem aragem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O tempo parou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;E eu estou dentro dele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Parado, inerte, à espera&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Da palavra coragem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Por contraponto à cobarde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Proferida que eu ouvi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Certa porque a senti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Verdadeira!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-1484377046880132689?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/1484377046880132689/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=1484377046880132689' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/1484377046880132689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/1484377046880132689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/08/tarde-de-vero.html' title='Tarde de Verão'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-6898388569863338669</id><published>2008-07-29T22:16:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:54.731+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Não sou Mendigo!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Não sou mendigo&lt;br /&gt;Não visto roupas rotas e luvas cortadas nos dedos&lt;br /&gt;Não preciso rastejar para ter aquilo que quero&lt;br /&gt;E o que não consigo ter, que diabos;&lt;br /&gt;Há-de haver mais por aí!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem não consegue assumir-se&lt;br /&gt;Quem não consegue soltar-se&lt;br /&gt;Quem não se descobre mesmo olhando-se&lt;br /&gt;E ainda tem dúvidas, que diabos,&lt;br /&gt;Não merece sequer viver!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obrigado, anjos que me rodeiam,&lt;br /&gt;Pois sei hoje o meu caminho&lt;br /&gt;Iluminado a caldeiras de vapor&lt;br /&gt;E seja com quem for, que diabos,&lt;br /&gt;Se calhar é melhor sozinho!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero na minha poltrona&lt;br /&gt;Esperar nunca é demais&lt;br /&gt;Mas mesmo que o seja&lt;br /&gt;E aparecer outro alguém, que diabos,&lt;br /&gt;Quem perde é quem me deixou sozinho!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-6898388569863338669?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/6898388569863338669/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=6898388569863338669' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/6898388569863338669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/6898388569863338669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/07/no-sou-mendigo.html' title='Não sou Mendigo!'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-2833781197335784086</id><published>2008-07-29T22:14:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:54.731+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Viagem</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sento-me&lt;br /&gt;O néctar é bom de cevada feito&lt;br /&gt;Sinto-o flutuar descendo lentamente&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto abandono a mente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esquecer hoje quero&lt;br /&gt;De quantos são todos os amados em&lt;br /&gt;Mim perdido no nevoeiro enquanto&lt;br /&gt;Afloro o monte para descer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nesta bruma que paira&lt;br /&gt;O caminho visível não é&lt;br /&gt;Que lá está sei-o eu bem&lt;br /&gt;Mas um passo em frente outro dou&lt;br /&gt;Qual russa roleta apontada&lt;br /&gt;Certa da câmara carregada&lt;br /&gt;Por ti que amada sou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As palavras são farpas&lt;br /&gt;Madeira nova húmida pelo tempo&lt;br /&gt;A soltura do momento é profana&lt;br /&gt;Conduz à ufana vontade da cidade&lt;br /&gt;Em amigos caiados de luz&lt;br /&gt;Criaturas embelezadas&lt;br /&gt;Por aquilo que não são.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ou sou-o eu imaculado&lt;br /&gt;Diabrete tanto tempo enganado&lt;br /&gt;Por um semelhante alado&lt;br /&gt;Neste mundo todos somos nado&lt;br /&gt;Crescidos e enraizados&lt;br /&gt;No desejo de ser, viver e existir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A luz difusa&lt;br /&gt;O fumo exalado&lt;br /&gt;O néon vermelho entorpecedor&lt;br /&gt;O riso do torpor&lt;br /&gt;O não dizer não porque é bom&lt;br /&gt;O bom que é mau&lt;br /&gt;Se virmos a beleza do negro rodeado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O silêncio do após&lt;br /&gt;O suor do durante&lt;br /&gt;A tristeza do momento&lt;br /&gt;A dor do contentamento&lt;br /&gt;Que se não evita&lt;br /&gt;Eu, perdido longe&lt;br /&gt;Olhando do firmamento&lt;br /&gt;Regalado, espantado, sonhado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pautei-me pelo desequilíbrio&lt;br /&gt;Orientando-me pela Estrela do Norte&lt;br /&gt;Senti ter encontrado&lt;br /&gt;A minha Polar Guia que hei-de ser guiado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um rebento, uma flor, um amor&lt;br /&gt;Semente do futuro&lt;br /&gt;Íman do presente&lt;br /&gt;O sumo daquilo que dá cor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O futuro a Deus pertence&lt;br /&gt;E aos homens cabe escolher&lt;br /&gt;Pertenças do passado&lt;br /&gt;Para sempre procurado&lt;br /&gt;Finalmente encontrado&lt;br /&gt;Ou talvez não achado&lt;br /&gt;Que é doce é&lt;br /&gt;E não me vou sentir atormentado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma escolha, uma visão&lt;br /&gt;Uma certeza, uma elevação&lt;br /&gt;Só é pena no estar longe&lt;br /&gt;Que no entanto seria perto&lt;br /&gt;Para viver a bela paixão&lt;br /&gt;De apagar cedinho&lt;br /&gt;E acordar de sopetão&lt;br /&gt;Olhando o anjo dormindo&lt;br /&gt;Aquele que precisa de compaixão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um diabrete será a melhor escolha?...&lt;br /&gt;Para todo este quadro&lt;br /&gt;Na música da guitarra indiana que sopra&lt;br /&gt;Notas que inflamam o ar&lt;br /&gt;Pudera, quisera, ser eu o tocador&lt;br /&gt;Deste banjo enfeitiçado&lt;br /&gt;Para que os sons alarmados&lt;br /&gt;Fossem donos de um só senhor&lt;br /&gt;No etéreo sonar cego amaldiçoado&lt;br /&gt;De quem só sabe amar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amar como ninguém ama&lt;br /&gt;Amar com dor&lt;br /&gt;Amar com sabor&lt;br /&gt;Amar que atiça a chama&lt;br /&gt;E que torna indolor&lt;br /&gt;Na aceitação do que se é&lt;br /&gt;Porque amar é amor e&lt;br /&gt;Amor é do que é adoro-te.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perco-me no meu labirinto&lt;br /&gt;Que crio no meu querer&lt;br /&gt;O Minotauro persegue-me&lt;br /&gt;Pelas ruas da cidade iluminada&lt;br /&gt;Afastando-me mas agarrando-me&lt;br /&gt;Em cada esquina confrontando-me&lt;br /&gt;Comigo e com o meu saber&lt;br /&gt;Daquilo que já sei&lt;br /&gt;E que ele quer poder ler&lt;br /&gt;Transmitido nos actos e não palavras&lt;br /&gt;Não em omissões mas em repastos&lt;br /&gt;De momentos solenes de partilha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O momento vai chegando&lt;br /&gt;O tempo é agora&lt;br /&gt;O toque deve ser dado&lt;br /&gt;Por quem detém a flama&lt;br /&gt;Vermelha rúbea alaranjada&lt;br /&gt;Que queima e deita por terra a espada&lt;br /&gt;Protectora do arcanjo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando?...&lt;br /&gt;Onde?...&lt;br /&gt;Por quanto tempo?...&lt;br /&gt;Porquê prolongar o intento?...&lt;br /&gt;Quisera eu ser o vento&lt;br /&gt;E pudera eu estar&lt;br /&gt;A teu lado em acento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estou?...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-2833781197335784086?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/2833781197335784086/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=2833781197335784086' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/2833781197335784086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/2833781197335784086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/07/viagem.html' title='Viagem'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-181362992180599394</id><published>2008-07-29T22:14:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:54.732+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Homenagem</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;O CHINÊS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os olhos tristes do chinês&lt;br /&gt;Procuram no horizonte&lt;br /&gt;A figura da sua amada&lt;br /&gt;Pois a sua imagem&lt;br /&gt;Baila na sua mente.&lt;br /&gt;A sua testa enruga-se&lt;br /&gt;E ele questiona-se do porquê&lt;br /&gt;Da sua teimosia em não chegar&lt;br /&gt;E no seu cérebro algo&lt;br /&gt;Lhe tolha a razão&lt;br /&gt;O seu cérebro se enevoa de dúvida&lt;br /&gt;O coração arde e a lágrima brota.&lt;br /&gt;Os lábios dela se curvam&lt;br /&gt;Como se um último beijo ela lhe quisesse dar&lt;br /&gt;E o que a principio era lágrima&lt;br /&gt;Agora realmente é chorar.&lt;br /&gt;Suas mãos se unem&lt;br /&gt;Numa prece surda&lt;br /&gt;Ajuda pedindo a quem passar&lt;br /&gt;Mas no seu íntimo ele sabe&lt;br /&gt;Que é inútil esperar&lt;br /&gt;Por algo que não volta.&lt;br /&gt;Os olhos tristes do chinês&lt;br /&gt;Estão agora vazios&lt;br /&gt;Já não estão a chorar&lt;br /&gt;Mas talvez, quem sabe,&lt;br /&gt;Ele torne a aprender&lt;br /&gt;O que é amar.&lt;br /&gt;Os olhos tristes do chinês&lt;br /&gt;Procuram um novo amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-181362992180599394?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/181362992180599394/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=181362992180599394' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/181362992180599394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/181362992180599394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/07/homenagem.html' title='Homenagem'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-6860148161969217500</id><published>2008-07-29T22:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:54.732+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>O Interior</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Aço&lt;br /&gt;Puro aço&lt;br /&gt;Flexível&lt;br /&gt;Mole&lt;br /&gt;Contorcionável&lt;br /&gt;Amado&lt;br /&gt;Duro&lt;br /&gt;Confuso&lt;br /&gt;Problemático&lt;br /&gt;Estranho até&lt;br /&gt;Sou eu eu sou&lt;br /&gt;Oh! Desdita sina prisioneira&lt;br /&gt;Porque me ditaste tamanho Norte&lt;br /&gt;Num Sul beirado?&lt;br /&gt;Sorte?&lt;br /&gt;Malassorte?&lt;br /&gt;Oh! Provença distinguida&lt;br /&gt;Alba de nome&lt;br /&gt;O monte assim o anuncia&lt;br /&gt;Castro da viçosa entrada&lt;br /&gt;Acaba sempre em non-sense.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-6860148161969217500?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/6860148161969217500/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=6860148161969217500' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/6860148161969217500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/6860148161969217500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/07/o-interior.html' title='O Interior'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-8748006014442493171</id><published>2008-07-29T22:11:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:16.370+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>I feel...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I feel you&lt;br /&gt;You are right there&lt;br /&gt;I want to know you&lt;br /&gt;Don’t shut me out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your awkwardness&lt;br /&gt;Only sets me more on fire&lt;br /&gt;We’re bonded together&lt;br /&gt;In this universal chain of events&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’s someone there&lt;br /&gt;Looking, waiting&lt;br /&gt;Wishing and perhaps&lt;br /&gt;Already tasted&lt;br /&gt;But you are pure fire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m willing to lock you down&lt;br /&gt;Right inside of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You’re already there&lt;br /&gt;And you know it&lt;br /&gt;But events, moments passed&lt;br /&gt;Past tense to the future&lt;br /&gt;Might enclose the open door&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Windows, glass view&lt;br /&gt;And untouchable spaces&lt;br /&gt;Imprison love in its all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, Oh! Love&lt;br /&gt;Life, Oh! Life&lt;br /&gt;Birds, little nightingales flying&lt;br /&gt;Hovering slowly over the flower&lt;br /&gt;Your flower&lt;br /&gt;My honey&lt;br /&gt;Our nest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it all only in my chest?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beauty is a beast&lt;br /&gt;Freedom is a conquest&lt;br /&gt;As long as you’re free&lt;br /&gt;You’re desirable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;City of sin, body of light&lt;br /&gt;Eyes laughing at every word&lt;br /&gt;Humming feelings hidden&lt;br /&gt;In touchable untouched hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Close your hands on my soul&lt;br /&gt;Grasp my momentary lapses of reason&lt;br /&gt;And asleep your senses to my&lt;br /&gt;Unbecoming wishful desire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could only be free&lt;br /&gt;Of what the world reserved for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natural lover&lt;br /&gt;Love naturally others&lt;br /&gt;You in particularly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earth of my seed&lt;br /&gt;Seed of my love&lt;br /&gt;Love of my earth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m becoming you&lt;br /&gt;You reason my footsteps&lt;br /&gt;You make my daily routine&lt;br /&gt;An outstanding realization&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each time the wind goes by&lt;br /&gt;Moving my hair&lt;br /&gt;My sense of smell&lt;br /&gt;Blinding me to the perfume of nature&lt;br /&gt;Surrounding me in mute ecstasy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your face binds with nature&lt;br /&gt;Becoming so beautiful&lt;br /&gt;So out of the ordinary&lt;br /&gt;So without shape and form&lt;br /&gt;Simply existing, being,&lt;br /&gt;No ability to draw in thought&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a powerful thing&lt;br /&gt;You are me&lt;br /&gt;And I’m the universe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are we gods?&lt;br /&gt;Are we the ones who carries&lt;br /&gt;The seed of change?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really think so&lt;br /&gt;So…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-8748006014442493171?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/8748006014442493171/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=8748006014442493171' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/8748006014442493171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/8748006014442493171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-feel.html' title='I feel...'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-2187413409362829841</id><published>2008-07-29T22:11:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:54.732+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>O que sou e quem me quer</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Olho de cá de cima&lt;br /&gt;E penso quem sou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero o mundo&lt;br /&gt;E o mundo quere-me&lt;br /&gt;Mas ao mesmo tempo&lt;br /&gt;Negam a minha existência.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anseiam por mim&lt;br /&gt;Aquilo que represento&lt;br /&gt;E quem sou&lt;br /&gt;Mas depois&lt;br /&gt;Hesitam&lt;br /&gt;Soluçam&lt;br /&gt;Tremem&lt;br /&gt;Amedrontam-se&lt;br /&gt;Querem mas não querem&lt;br /&gt;Quererás tu?&lt;br /&gt;Diz-me que sim&lt;br /&gt;Que sou a semente de uma revolução&lt;br /&gt;De ti em ti para ti&lt;br /&gt;E para todos os outros&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aceita-me, bebe-me&lt;br /&gt;Lança alto o balão&lt;br /&gt;Deixa-o consumir-se&lt;br /&gt;Eu assumirei a sua consumação&lt;br /&gt;Livre&lt;br /&gt;Forte&lt;br /&gt;Amargo&lt;br /&gt;Sem restrições&lt;br /&gt;Desde que de ti&lt;br /&gt;Por ti&lt;br /&gt;E para ti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-2187413409362829841?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/2187413409362829841/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=2187413409362829841' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/2187413409362829841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/2187413409362829841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/07/o-que-sou-e-quem-me-quer.html' title='O que sou e quem me quer'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-4140600249497225753</id><published>2008-07-29T22:10:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:54.733+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>O vento dos acontecimentos</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Distantes...&lt;br /&gt;Distanciamentos voluntários...&lt;br /&gt;Tristezas contidas num recipiente aberto...&lt;br /&gt;Palavras mudas não ditas...&lt;br /&gt;Sons perdidos no vácuo...&lt;br /&gt;O grito que não sai...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! Dor que me não largas!...&lt;br /&gt;Oh! Quente que não chegas!...&lt;br /&gt;Oh! Chão que me afagas!...&lt;br /&gt;Oh! Corte que o não é!...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imóvel neste remoinho ameno&lt;br /&gt;A árvore da razão aguenta firme&lt;br /&gt;Aguentará também o frágil ramo&lt;br /&gt;Que abana ao leme?!...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-4140600249497225753?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/4140600249497225753/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=4140600249497225753' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/4140600249497225753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/4140600249497225753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/07/o-vento-dos-acontecimentos.html' title='O vento dos acontecimentos'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-756543303029765459</id><published>2008-07-29T22:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:16.371+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>Women Demon</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Women are two headed demons&lt;br /&gt;Always sacrificing&lt;br /&gt;And making life sacrifices&lt;br /&gt;To their own private gods&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men, lost brute souls&lt;br /&gt;Wonders the land&lt;br /&gt;In mystic roams&lt;br /&gt;Searching, lost&lt;br /&gt;For what it seems&lt;br /&gt;A lost cause&lt;br /&gt;True, free and unchained love…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You and I can be&lt;br /&gt;Unleashing free love to the world&lt;br /&gt;Healing wounds&lt;br /&gt;Yours, mine and from all around!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-756543303029765459?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/756543303029765459/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=756543303029765459' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/756543303029765459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/756543303029765459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/07/women-demon.html' title='Women Demon'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-5321035454679361285</id><published>2008-07-29T22:08:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:16.372+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>With a word (complete)</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“With a Word, castles fall down in their mighty foundations.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Rather live a lie in peace than a truth at war.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Authentic anonymous poet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here, now and forever! …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gathered information&lt;br /&gt;Lost in translation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moments of truth&lt;br /&gt;Clarity of mind&lt;br /&gt;In a troubled time&lt;br /&gt;He got lost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is the traveller&lt;br /&gt;To take him home?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is the road&lt;br /&gt;That makes him come?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is the crossroad?&lt;br /&gt;That forgiving tarmac,&lt;br /&gt;Highway to the sky&lt;br /&gt;Of our greyed soul?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’re wondering in nights&lt;br /&gt;Wishing never becoming days&lt;br /&gt;So we never understand&lt;br /&gt;What’s really going on…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Games played&lt;br /&gt;Half lies, half truths&lt;br /&gt;Said and done&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hidden closets&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for the right moments&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanting not to loose&lt;br /&gt;So victory is a certainty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s in the middle&lt;br /&gt;Of this half night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lights hang upon heads&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eyes that don’t see&lt;br /&gt;Will not want to see&lt;br /&gt;But forced to see&lt;br /&gt;You and perhaps me&lt;br /&gt;In a triangle of lost hope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had began&lt;br /&gt;In a sudden and awkward&lt;br /&gt;Timeless time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reasons and facts mingled&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happened then?&lt;br /&gt;Why didn’t he see?&lt;br /&gt;Why didn’t he suspect?&lt;br /&gt;Why did he take it all in&lt;br /&gt;Not even doubting?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything as his reasons&lt;br /&gt;Everything happens by destiny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends are near&lt;br /&gt;Louring&lt;br /&gt;Deceptive&lt;br /&gt;Disguised as true holders&lt;br /&gt;Of others despair&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wants you&lt;br /&gt;Mighty queen&lt;br /&gt;He feels you want him&lt;br /&gt;Strong king&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t let go of him&lt;br /&gt;Don’t let him go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t cry then&lt;br /&gt;Tears of sorrow&lt;br /&gt;For what you could have done&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The string is nearly&lt;br /&gt;Fully stretched&lt;br /&gt;Almost at the breakpoint&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chances are open&lt;br /&gt;If heat is added&lt;br /&gt;And then cold poured&lt;br /&gt;So heart and mind&lt;br /&gt;United and powdered&lt;br /&gt;In baby tan skin&lt;br /&gt;Arises comforted and peacefully numbed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He talked me&lt;br /&gt;He mumbled words silently&lt;br /&gt;Almost like crying&lt;br /&gt;“Please… hold me… hug me…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hum!... Hum!...&lt;br /&gt;Am I the arch-angel?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does he feel you are an angel?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you an angel?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From what sky come you?&lt;br /&gt;From up above&lt;br /&gt;Or from down below?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said&lt;br /&gt;“I want her, no matter what!”&lt;br /&gt;“Angel or devil,&lt;br /&gt;Beauty is beauty no matter what!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s right…&lt;br /&gt;He’s dead right!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You must say the words&lt;br /&gt;And please the soul tormented&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ease his sorrow&lt;br /&gt;Say what you feel&lt;br /&gt;Allow your self to live&lt;br /&gt;If life is able&lt;br /&gt;In your heart and soul&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get freedom and give freedom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You hold the keys&lt;br /&gt;Use them&lt;br /&gt;Give happiness&lt;br /&gt;Where there is a burned field&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unchain the door of perception&lt;br /&gt;Complete the half words said&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it really what you think?&lt;br /&gt;Or was it a lapse of lips&lt;br /&gt;Said without the power&lt;br /&gt;That those words closed in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You must say the words&lt;br /&gt;Say them now&lt;br /&gt;Or shut forever&lt;br /&gt;Loosing the keys&lt;br /&gt;To the hydra’s gate guarded hall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This arch-angel is about to leave&lt;br /&gt;This dragon don’t fight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Behind the true force of his wings&lt;br /&gt;And the heat of his breath&lt;br /&gt;He got dazzled&lt;br /&gt;Confused and hesitated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was he pushed back?&lt;br /&gt;Or was he just tested in his convictions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time&lt;br /&gt;Time of full words&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say it now, loud and clear&lt;br /&gt;Should he stay near?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Girl you got to love your man&lt;br /&gt;Take him by the hand&lt;br /&gt;Make him understand&lt;br /&gt;The world on you depends&lt;br /&gt;Our life will never end&lt;br /&gt;Got to love your man&lt;br /&gt;Yeahhhh!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The great poet said&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is your time now&lt;br /&gt;Hold it, don’t deny it!&lt;br /&gt;Don’t deny him&lt;br /&gt;Or set him free!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-5321035454679361285?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/5321035454679361285/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=5321035454679361285' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/5321035454679361285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/5321035454679361285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/07/with-word-complete.html' title='With a word (complete)'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-2844317551456589197</id><published>2008-07-29T22:05:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:54.733+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Natureza viva</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Cruzou o caminho&lt;br /&gt;Um ser, uma entidade,&lt;br /&gt;Uma borboleta livre,&lt;br /&gt;Vigorosa e bela.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Algo em si acorda a vida&lt;br /&gt;E uma brisa inicia o seu movimento&lt;br /&gt;Fazendo voar as suas asas negras&lt;br /&gt;Elevando-a graciosa&lt;br /&gt;Escondida nas belezas que a rodeiam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A suas antenas,&lt;br /&gt;Ora tristes ora alegres,&lt;br /&gt;Não deixam perceber o estado de espírito&lt;br /&gt;Que a inunda quando voa baixinho.&lt;br /&gt;Deixando as flores na expectativa&lt;br /&gt;De serem as escolhidas&lt;br /&gt;Para saciar a sua sede.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Será Chuva ou Sol o que prenuncia,&lt;br /&gt;Será que sim será que não,&lt;br /&gt;Irá beber ou fará jejum,&lt;br /&gt;Até quando a decisão?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As flores balouçam suas pétalas,&lt;br /&gt;Seus caules insinuam-se,&lt;br /&gt;E no meio do floral,&lt;br /&gt;Uma se esconde aparecendo,&lt;br /&gt;Tímida, diferente e indecisa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Será que a borboleta a verá,&lt;br /&gt;E vendo-a, será que a perceberá?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As nuvens do horizonte parecem aproximar-se,&lt;br /&gt;A seu lado percorre o vento Norte&lt;br /&gt;Pronto a intervir e a deixar brilhar o sol,&lt;br /&gt;Realçando as cores negras aveludadas da flor escondida,&lt;br /&gt;Cores essas para serem vistas só por olhos especiais…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-2844317551456589197?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/2844317551456589197/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=2844317551456589197' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/2844317551456589197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/2844317551456589197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/07/natureza-viva.html' title='Natureza viva'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-8617907912111354730</id><published>2008-07-29T22:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:54.734+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Diálogo</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As palavras são paisagens...&lt;br /&gt;e vi uma paisagem nas tuas...&lt;br /&gt;e despertou...&lt;br /&gt;e quando desperta, o sorriso nasce&lt;br /&gt;e a calma transparece...&lt;br /&gt;o sorriso acalma&lt;br /&gt;ilumina&lt;br /&gt;absorve&lt;br /&gt;mescla&lt;br /&gt;combina o incombinável&lt;br /&gt;suaviza&lt;br /&gt;distâncias...&lt;br /&gt;voos astrais...&lt;br /&gt;projecções...&lt;br /&gt;entidades etéreas encontradas no limbo da realidade&lt;br /&gt;juntas por momentos&lt;br /&gt;imaginadas&lt;br /&gt;uma brisa&lt;br /&gt;tudo num momento único&lt;br /&gt;bebido e sorvido&lt;br /&gt;lentamente com sofreguidão&lt;br /&gt;num frio que aquece pelo calor de uma noite de Inverno&lt;br /&gt;parei para olhar para a tua cara...&lt;br /&gt;deixar a luz da lua tocar a tua face esbatida semi transparente&lt;br /&gt;que flutua suavemente&lt;br /&gt;com o manto branco esvoaçando em ondas calmas&lt;br /&gt;revelando a pureza e a calma&lt;br /&gt;que transportas&lt;br /&gt;estava a olhar outra vez...&lt;br /&gt;sentes a elevação?&lt;br /&gt;sentes a energia do ar?&lt;br /&gt;sentes a leveza?&lt;br /&gt;então acompanha-me... sobe... contempla as estrelas...&lt;br /&gt;sente a vertigem ao olhar para baixo&lt;br /&gt;abre os pulmões e deixa entrar o vácuo&lt;br /&gt;não precisas respirar&lt;br /&gt;aqui simplesmente és&lt;br /&gt;existes&lt;br /&gt;és plena&lt;br /&gt;o manto cola-se a ti&lt;br /&gt;sentes um arrepio&lt;br /&gt;mas aqui não há frio&lt;br /&gt;uma réstia da humanidade mental&lt;br /&gt;fecha os olhos&lt;br /&gt;acredita e estarás aqui totalmente&lt;br /&gt;em baixo, o azul celeste atmosférico encanta&lt;br /&gt;nós somos ali&lt;br /&gt;nados e criados&lt;br /&gt;possuidores de uma aura de energia enclausurada&lt;br /&gt;à espera da soltura mistica&lt;br /&gt;à espera do que somos&lt;br /&gt;tu e eu&lt;br /&gt;filhos do Universo únicos&lt;br /&gt;o conjunto de tudo, a força do NÓS!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-8617907912111354730?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/8617907912111354730/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=8617907912111354730' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/8617907912111354730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/8617907912111354730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/07/dilogo.html' title='Diálogo'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-3823053111881939923</id><published>2008-07-29T21:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:16.373+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>Love and perception</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I’m in love with a girl from up north&lt;br /&gt;I’m in love don’t tell me I’m wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She’s not in love with a boy from down south&lt;br /&gt;She’s not in love because he’s full of mouth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She’s now in love with a boy from down south&lt;br /&gt;She’s in love because she knows now he’s not full of mouth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not in love with a girl from up north&lt;br /&gt;I’m not in love because she’s not worth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have met in a book store&lt;br /&gt;Crossed their eyes in a mute wish for more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spaces between them just don’t mind&lt;br /&gt;They just wish it could be fine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For another day another time&lt;br /&gt;For something good for something tight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m in love with a girl from up north&lt;br /&gt;I’m in love don’t tell me I’m wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She’s not in love with a boy from down south&lt;br /&gt;She’s not in love because he’s full of mouth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She’s now in love with a boy from down south&lt;br /&gt;She’s in love because she knows now he’s not full of mouth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not in love with a girl from up north&lt;br /&gt;I’m not in love because she’s not worth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It come the sign that special bind&lt;br /&gt;You and me in a moment of time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It elapsed so slowly&lt;br /&gt;Winds change and we never grow older&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like kids we played around&lt;br /&gt;Touching faces we made no sound&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so beautiful all remained the same&lt;br /&gt;It was so wonderful there was no shame&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today you look at this bitter face&lt;br /&gt;I look at yours and I wish to embrace&lt;br /&gt;Young sounds reviving minds&lt;br /&gt;Times when we were pure and fine&lt;br /&gt;Your picture still lies beside my brain bedside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-3823053111881939923?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/3823053111881939923/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=3823053111881939923' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/3823053111881939923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/3823053111881939923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/07/love-and-perception.html' title='Love and perception'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-363804126499989086</id><published>2008-07-29T21:49:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:54.735+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Oh!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Os portais que se abrem são os mesmos que se fecham a cada nova investida.&lt;br /&gt;As dores que deveriam ser absorvidas enchem-nos de dor.&lt;br /&gt;Os odores que exalamos atraem, mas repelimos quem chega.&lt;br /&gt;Quem fala permanece calado nas vulgaridades do discurso.&lt;br /&gt;O silêncio que se escuta é sinal da gritaria surda que nos envolve.&lt;br /&gt;As opiniões que emitimos não se ouvem, perdendo-se no eco das escadarias.&lt;br /&gt;A segurança que proporcionamos esvanece-se na certeza das convicções.&lt;br /&gt;A força bate-se com a fraqueza que se lhe aparece a cada esforço.&lt;br /&gt;A fraqueza fortalece-se na fraqueza de tal força desmedida.&lt;br /&gt;A besta embala a bela que esmorece ante tal brutidão.&lt;br /&gt;A brutidão torna-se cândida nas mãos de quem o é.&lt;br /&gt;Os Homens dominam a besta que há em si para serem dominados por ela.&lt;br /&gt;Haja franqueza onde se vislumbra o cinismo.&lt;br /&gt;Haja cinismo na lide dos cínicos.&lt;br /&gt;Hajam clínicos, hajam mímicos, hajam enfim outros que não satíricos.&lt;br /&gt;Hajamos nós, hajam eles, ajamos nós.&lt;br /&gt;Corramos todos parados em círculo para o centro.&lt;br /&gt;Fujamos do centro para a periferia do mesmo que nos absorve.&lt;br /&gt;Olhemos a luz que nos cega na escuridão da certeza.&lt;br /&gt;Prometamos o Céu e entreguemos a Terra.&lt;br /&gt;Entreguemos a Terra a quem quer o Céu.&lt;br /&gt;Subamos a deuses pois eles são-no na Terra.&lt;br /&gt;Fujamos para lutar, lutemos para fugir.&lt;br /&gt;Para onde poderemos ir?...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-363804126499989086?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/363804126499989086/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=363804126499989086' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/363804126499989086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/363804126499989086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/07/oh.html' title='Oh!'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-7526545373266491074</id><published>2008-07-29T21:49:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:54.735+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Poema dedicado a um poeta</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sentei-me no teu colo&lt;br /&gt;Olhei para o lado&lt;br /&gt;Vi a tua sombra&lt;br /&gt;Qual animal alado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As asas abertas… nos braços fechados&lt;br /&gt;A mente desperta… nos olhos cerrados.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora que estamos juntos Ai! Estamos separados&lt;br /&gt;O que deverei fazer para nunca te perder&lt;br /&gt;Ficarmos para sempre amados.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ando à procura de um pouso p’ra descansar&lt;br /&gt;Ando à procura de um ninho para amar&lt;br /&gt;Ando à procura de um sítio além-mar&lt;br /&gt;Ando à procura, enfim, de sonhar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encontrei-te sozinha sem falar&lt;br /&gt;Abri a minha mente a esse novo despertar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voltei para dentro&lt;br /&gt;P’ra segurança do lar&lt;br /&gt;Vi-te no entanto aqui a caminhar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ando à procura de um pouso p’ra descansar&lt;br /&gt;Ando à procura de um ninho para amar&lt;br /&gt;Ando à procura de um sítio além-mar&lt;br /&gt;Ando à procura, enfim, de sonhar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ando à procura de um pouso p’ra descansar&lt;br /&gt;Ando à procura de um ninho para amar&lt;br /&gt;Ando à procura de um sítio além-mar&lt;br /&gt;Ando à procura, enfim, de sonhar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ando à procura de um pouso p’ra descansar&lt;br /&gt;Ando à procura de um ninho para amar&lt;br /&gt;Ando à procura de um sítio além-mar&lt;br /&gt;Ando à procura, enfim, de sonhar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-7526545373266491074?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/7526545373266491074/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=7526545373266491074' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/7526545373266491074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/7526545373266491074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/07/poema-dedicado-um-poeta.html' title='Poema dedicado a um poeta'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-527510017414778646</id><published>2008-07-29T21:48:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:16.373+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>Angel of the dark lifgt</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Angel of the dark light&lt;br /&gt;That in lights our dark path&lt;br /&gt;With your diffuse glow&lt;br /&gt;Show us all your might&lt;br /&gt;So we can grow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fly above our heads&lt;br /&gt;Cover us with your sorrow&lt;br /&gt;Allowing the truth in our hearts&lt;br /&gt;Emerge like an arrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a painful truth&lt;br /&gt;An ugly and undesired pain&lt;br /&gt;The one that shows us all&lt;br /&gt;How dark is our brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We fool our selves&lt;br /&gt;With a masked fantasy&lt;br /&gt;Human live like gods&lt;br /&gt;But act like crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We condemn everyone&lt;br /&gt;When they fail on us&lt;br /&gt;But we are the first&lt;br /&gt;Who enter the same bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ride is happy&lt;br /&gt;The driver is fun&lt;br /&gt;But it all end&lt;br /&gt;When everybody come(s).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-527510017414778646?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/527510017414778646/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=527510017414778646' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/527510017414778646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/527510017414778646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/07/angel-of-dark-lifgt.html' title='Angel of the dark lifgt'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-8005516035839698145</id><published>2008-07-29T21:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:45:16.374+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>Are we nuts?</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Are we nuts, Oh Lord?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Degrees&lt;br /&gt;Masters of clowns&lt;br /&gt;They all trick us&lt;br /&gt;With their cloth of&lt;br /&gt;Invisible deception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lambs of the Lord&lt;br /&gt;Lord of lambs&lt;br /&gt;We must revise our position&lt;br /&gt;If want to stay alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ascension to the catacombs&lt;br /&gt;To places unseen&lt;br /&gt;The things we’re not aware&lt;br /&gt;Are the ones who going to kill&lt;br /&gt;Our soul of lambs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lambs of the Lord&lt;br /&gt;Lord of lambs&lt;br /&gt;We must revise our position&lt;br /&gt;If want to stay alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We gave away our freedom&lt;br /&gt;We deliver the doomsday&lt;br /&gt;To our own kind&lt;br /&gt;They must come down&lt;br /&gt;If want to stay alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lambs of the Lord&lt;br /&gt;Lord of lambs&lt;br /&gt;We must revise our position&lt;br /&gt;If want to survive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take down hard and fast&lt;br /&gt;Assume the positions of strength&lt;br /&gt;Make a block and not pass&lt;br /&gt;Our rights to those who do not fight&lt;br /&gt;If want to stay alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lambs of the Lord&lt;br /&gt;Lord of lambs&lt;br /&gt;We must revise our position&lt;br /&gt;If want to survive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dress the wolf’s vest&lt;br /&gt;Don’t be the lamb forever&lt;br /&gt;Other wise we’ll be gone soon&lt;br /&gt;And not stay alive.&lt;br /&gt;The Worshipers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we drift through the jungle of wisdom&lt;br /&gt;Life is a mingle of feelings&lt;br /&gt;Connecting us all to mother earth&lt;br /&gt;As we never suspect possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Settling our hearts is a kingdom&lt;br /&gt;Unknown and hidden to men&lt;br /&gt;A lost place where we are free&lt;br /&gt;Mind and soul united and revised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Digging with bare fingers&lt;br /&gt;Beings crawl on their knees&lt;br /&gt;No longer matter if are mater&lt;br /&gt;Because sold souls don’t pay fees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Settling our hearts is a kingdom&lt;br /&gt;Unknown and hidden to men&lt;br /&gt;A lost place where we are free&lt;br /&gt;Mind and soul united and revised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We go under&lt;br /&gt;To the place of red eternal&lt;br /&gt;Hoping to be found and dragged out&lt;br /&gt;Of this quietness solitude burning&lt;br /&gt;Our inner beats subsisting yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Settling our hearts is a kingdom&lt;br /&gt;Unknown and hidden to men&lt;br /&gt;A lost place where we are free&lt;br /&gt;Mind and soul united and revised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The vampires keep coming&lt;br /&gt;Not to make us like them&lt;br /&gt;But to suck the life out of us&lt;br /&gt;Draining the flesh to the bones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Settling our hearts is a kingdom&lt;br /&gt;Unknown and hidden to men&lt;br /&gt;A lost place where we are free&lt;br /&gt;Mind and soul united and revised.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-8005516035839698145?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/8005516035839698145/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=8005516035839698145' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/8005516035839698145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/8005516035839698145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/07/are-we-nuts.html' title='Are we nuts?'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-3997122984344168863</id><published>2008-07-29T21:45:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T15:17:43.284+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Um dia um anjo chegou ao pé de mim (falso messias)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Um dia um anjo chegou ao pé de mim. Era lindo. Tinha umas belas asas brancas, cabelo encaracolado de um loiro ofuscante, e uns olhos verdes brilhantes. Encimando sua bela cabeça, um halo reluzia resplandecente demonstrando claramente que de algo divino se tratava.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sussurrou-me ao ouvido palavras de esperança, promessas do Céu na terra para mim e para todos quantos habitavam esta (T)terra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorri… a boa nova era chegada… a salvação dos mortais, finalmente!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas enquanto se afastava, graciosamente no seu voo ascendente, após tais anúncios, algo se materializou, difuso, imperceptível, sombrio…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que coisa abraçava aquele ser de luz que ainda agora trouxera tão boas notícias?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olhei melhor… Não abraçava, emanava de dentro dele. Mas… mas… aquela figura tinha chifres! Mas…mas… aquela figura tinha uma cauda!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gradualmente apercebi-me do que era… um ser feito anjo para nos enganar… Oh! Quantos terá já enganado esta criatura das trevas?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Compreendi que as suas doces palavras, que me suavizaram a vontade anteriormente e agora desfeitas pela visão, poderão ter ficado gravadas nas pobres criaturas a quem visitara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O portal está aberto. Estão todos predispostos a aceitar a vinda deste falso Messias, mesmo que as suas promessas explicitamente digam que vai criar a divisão, colocar irmão contra irmão e pai contra filho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A vinda já começou! Ele ascende gradualmente! A Ganância, a Inveja, a Cobiça e a Gula já cá estão!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-3997122984344168863?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/3997122984344168863/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=3997122984344168863' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/3997122984344168863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/3997122984344168863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/07/um-dia-um-anjo-chegou-ao-p-de-mim.html' title='Um dia um anjo chegou ao pé de mim (falso messias)'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-5933241792059081959</id><published>2008-07-29T21:45:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T15:17:16.143+01:00</updated><title type='text'>With a word</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;“&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;With a Word, castles fall down in their mighty foundations.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Authentic anonymous poet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here, now and forever! …&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gathered information&lt;br /&gt;Lost in translation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moments of truth&lt;br /&gt;Clarity of mind&lt;br /&gt;In a troubled time&lt;br /&gt;He got lost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is the traveller&lt;br /&gt;To take him home?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is the road&lt;br /&gt;That makes him come?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is the crossroad?&lt;br /&gt;That forgiving tarmac,&lt;br /&gt;Highway to the sky&lt;br /&gt;Of our greyed soul?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’re wondering in nights&lt;br /&gt;Wishing never becoming days&lt;br /&gt;So we never understand&lt;br /&gt;What’s really going on…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Games played&lt;br /&gt;Half lies, half truths&lt;br /&gt;Said and done&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hidden closets&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for the right moments&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanting not to loose&lt;br /&gt;So victory is a certainty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s in the middle&lt;br /&gt;Of this half night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lights hang upon heads&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eyes that don’t see&lt;br /&gt;Will not want to see&lt;br /&gt;But forced to see.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-5933241792059081959?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/5933241792059081959/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=5933241792059081959' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/5933241792059081959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/5933241792059081959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/07/with-word.html' title='With a word'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-1492121179420237322</id><published>2008-07-29T21:24:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T21:24:30.647+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Os adormecidos do sistema</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Os homens e os ministros assinalados&lt;br /&gt;Que do gabinete legislam&lt;br /&gt;Dão cabo da vivacidade&lt;br /&gt;E de tudo que nos ensinam.&lt;br /&gt;As mágoas carpiam corações&lt;br /&gt;Desistentes da luta moral&lt;br /&gt;Já nem de Abril as canções&lt;br /&gt;Fazem lembrar o mal.&lt;br /&gt;Combatentes de Abril&lt;br /&gt;Estranho Presente se parecem&lt;br /&gt;Bebem a pouca água do cantil&lt;br /&gt;Morrem à sede os que merecem.&lt;br /&gt;Do povo, Pelo povo, para o povo&lt;br /&gt;Parecia ser o mote&lt;br /&gt;Mais parece um polvo&lt;br /&gt;Que aperta como um garrote.&lt;br /&gt;Ainda acredito na democracia?!...&lt;br /&gt; A luta democrática chegou ao fim de facto&lt;br /&gt;Já vão longe as disputas&lt;br /&gt;Os governos vendem-se ao desbarato&lt;br /&gt;Olhamos à volta e só vemos ***** (rima com disputas).&lt;br /&gt;Compram-se deputados (limiano)&lt;br /&gt;Para o país funcionar&lt;br /&gt;Depois no seu lugar estão sentados&lt;br /&gt;De olhos fechados a dormitar.&lt;br /&gt;Para que precisamos da representação do povo&lt;br /&gt;Se ela não mais é que a farsa&lt;br /&gt;Mais vale um bom cozido&lt;br /&gt;Do que toda esta salsa.&lt;br /&gt;Quando temperaremos esta disputa?...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-1492121179420237322?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/1492121179420237322/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=1492121179420237322' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/1492121179420237322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/1492121179420237322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/07/os-adormecidos-do-sistema.html' title='Os adormecidos do sistema'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3358736107778484856.post-5636253556390472031</id><published>2008-07-29T21:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T21:23:16.778+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Um par mistico</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;John e Yoko Ono&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dois que são um&lt;br /&gt;Nunca alguém os entendeu&lt;br /&gt;Na sua mística união&lt;br /&gt;E os que o procuraram&lt;br /&gt;Decerto o caminho erraram.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sua ligação&lt;br /&gt;Foi fruto de uma união&lt;br /&gt;Transcendental e inexplicável&lt;br /&gt;Até para os mesmos&lt;br /&gt;Nos olhos da lágrima secreta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dois iguais separados&lt;br /&gt;Na raça e no tempo&lt;br /&gt;Unidos na cor e no credo&lt;br /&gt;De que o mundo pode mudar&lt;br /&gt;E nada os fará parar&lt;br /&gt;A não ser a morte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As amizades, cores e laços actuais&lt;br /&gt;Se tornam passados imemoriais&lt;br /&gt;Na certeza de que finalmente somos nós&lt;br /&gt;E que nenhum pensamento é atroz&lt;br /&gt;Pois descobrimos o que queremos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sua vida no quarto&lt;br /&gt;Secretos amores despertos&lt;br /&gt;Substâncias cor-de-rosa exaladas&lt;br /&gt;O odor do amor sacudido&lt;br /&gt;E tempo pedido se torna perdido&lt;br /&gt;Pois o sol que aquece a pele arrefecida&lt;br /&gt;Não está no alto&lt;br /&gt;Está raso, bem raso, junto ao solo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É o calor da Terra Mãe.&lt;br /&gt;Minha e tua, nossa, de todos&lt;br /&gt;Sempre pronta a embalar&lt;br /&gt;Com as suas cores e fragrâncias esbeltas&lt;br /&gt;Em formas curvas tão rectilíneas&lt;br /&gt;Que conduzem direito por estradas tortas&lt;br /&gt;Ao desígnio da vida&lt;br /&gt;O encontrar do verdadeiro amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas a Terra Mãe não é óbvia&lt;br /&gt;Obriga e desobriga-se&lt;br /&gt;A porta de entrada é visível&lt;br /&gt;Porém podes tu vê-la?&lt;br /&gt;Consegues senti-la na escuridão da luz?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3358736107778484856-5636253556390472031?l=jimcoma.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/feeds/5636253556390472031/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3358736107778484856&amp;postID=5636253556390472031' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/5636253556390472031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3358736107778484856/posts/default/5636253556390472031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimcoma.blogspot.com/2008/07/um-par-mistico.html' title='Um par mistico'/><author><name>I am a Poet...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qMb8PiReET8/SMFRMix_rTI/AAAAAAAAABg/-6gIefFbM3c/S220/anjo+a+chorar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
